If the patient's mind is temporarily clouded through infection or suffering, he may be reacting to a delusion, an obsession, a fixed idea of disability, a terrifying fear. Sometimes he persistently refuses food, and gives no reason for it. The ... Read more of The Deluded Patient at Overcoming Fear.caInformational Site Network Informational
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Smoking Poems

The Smoker's Calendar.
When January's cold appears, A glowing pipe my spirit ...

In The Ol' Tobacker Patch.
I jess kind o' feel so lonesome that I don't know what to...

Virginia's Kingly Plant.
_BY AN "OLD SALT."_ Oh, muse! grant me the power (I...

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

My Cigar.
In spite of my physician, who is, _entre nous_, a fogy, ...

Her Brother's Cigarette.
Like raven's wings her locks of jet, Her soft eyes tou...

The Duet.
I was smoking a cigarette; Maud, my wife, and the te...

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

The Farmer's Pipe.
Make a picture, dreamy smoke, In my still and cosey ...

How It Once Was.
Right stout and strong the worthy burghers stood, ...

A Poet's Pipe.
_FROM THE FRENCH OF CHARLES BAUDELAIRE._ A poet's pipe...

A Pipe Of Tobacco.
Let the learned talk of books, The glutton...

Invocation To Tobacco.
Weed of the strange flower, weed of the earth, Killer ...

To My Cigar.
The warmth of thy glow, Well-lighted cigar, Makes h...

To An Old Pipe.
Once your smoothly polished face Nestled lightly in a ...

A Warning.
HE. I loathe all books. I hate to see The world a...

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

To A Pipe Of Tobacco.
Come, lovely tube, by friendship blest, Belov'd and ...

Tobacco Is An Indian Weed.
Tobacco's but an Indian weed, Grows green at morn, cut...

The Pipe Critic.
Say, pipe, let's talk of love; Canst aid me?...



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.





Next: EPITAPH

Previous: ODE TO MY PIPE.



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