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Smoking Poems

Choosing A Wife By A Pipe Of Tobacco.
Tube, I love thee as my life; By thee I mean to choose...

She.
The hateful man! 'Twould vex a saint! Around my pretty...

It May Be Weeds.
It may be weeds I've gathered too; But even weeds...

Ashes.
Wrapped in a sadly tattered gown, Alone I puff my brie...

Song Of The Smoke-wreaths.
_SUNG TO THE SMOKERS._ Not like clouds that cap the mo...

Edifying Reflections Of A Tobacco-smoker.
_SET TO MUSIC BY JOHANN SEBASTIAN BACH. AUTHOR UNKNOWN. TRANS...

What I Like.
To lie with half-closed eyes, as in a dream, Upon the ...

Old Pipe Of Mine.
Companion of my lonely hours, Full many a time 'twix...

My Cigarette.
_WORDS AND MUSIC BY RICHARD BARNARD_. To my sweet ciga...

In Wreaths Of Smoke.
In wreaths of smoke, blown waywardwise, Faces of o...

In Rotten Row.
In Rotten Row a cigarette I sat and smoked, with no re...

Smoke And Chess.
We were sitting at chess as the sun went down; And he,...

Ode To Tobacco.
Thou, who when fears attack Bidst them avaunt, and Bla...

A Farewell To Tobacco.
May the Babylonish curse Straight confound my stammeri...

The Latest Convert.
I've been in love some scores of times, With Amy, Ne...

The Old Clay Pipe.
There's a lot of solid comfort In an old clay pipe, ...

Clouds.
Mortals say their heart is light When the clouds aroun...

Effusion By A Cigar Smoker.
Warriors! who from the cannon's mouth blow fire, ...

Sublime Tobacco.
But here the herald of the self-same mouth Came breath...

My Pipe And I.
There may be comrades in this world, As stanch and t...



A PIPE OF TOBACCO.








Let the toper regale in his tankard of ale,
Or with alcohol moisten his thrapple,
Only give me, I pray, a good pipe of soft clay,
Nicely tapered and thin in the stapple;
And I shall puff, puff, let who will say, "Enough!"
No luxury else I'm in lack o',
No malice I hoard 'gainst queen, prince, duke, or lord,
While I pull at my pipe of tobacco.

When I feel the hot strife of the battle of life,
And the prospect is aught but enticin',
Mayhap some real ill, like a protested bill,
Dims the sunshine that tinged the horizon:
Only let me puff, puff,--be they ever so rough,
All the sorrows of life I lose track o',
The mists disappear, and the vista is clear,
With a soothing mild pipe of tobacco.

And when joy after pain, like the sun after rain,
Stills the waters, long turbid and troubled,
That life's current may flow with a ruddier glow,
And the sense of enjoyment be doubled,--
Oh! let me puff, puff, till I feel _quantum suff._,
Such luxury still I'm in lack o';
Be joy ever so sweet, it would be incomplete,
Without a good pipe of tobacco.

Should my recreant muse--sometimes apt to refuse
The guidance of bit and of bridle--
Still blankly demur, spite of whip and spur,
Unimpassioned, inconstant, or idle;
Only let me puff, puff, till the brain cries, "Enough!"
Such excitement is all I'm in lack o',
And the poetic vein soon to fancy gives rein,
Inspired by a pipe of tobacco.

And when, with one accord, round the jovial board,
In friendship our bosoms are glowing,
While with toast and with song we the evening prolong,
And with nectar the goblets are flowing;
Still let us puff, puff,--be life smooth, be it rough,
Such enjoyment we're ever in lack o';
The more peace and good-will will abound as we fill
A jolly good pipe of tobacco.

JOHN USHER.





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Previous: ODE TO MY PIPE.



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