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Smoking Poems

Smoke Is The Food Of Lovers.
When Cupid open'd shop, the trade he chose Was just th...

Pipe And Tobacco.
When my pipe burns bright and clear, The gods I need n...

A Symphony In Smoke.
A pretty, piquant, pouting pet, Who likes to muse and ...

My Pipe.
When love grows cool, thy fire still warms me; When fr...

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

Envoi.
Smokers, who doubt or con or pro, And ye who dare to...

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

In Favor Of Tobacco.
Much victuals serves for gluttony To fatten men like s...

"keats Took Snuff."
"Keats took snuff.... It has been established by the ...

Two Other Hearts.
Full tender beamed the light of love down from his manl...

Too Great A Sacrifice.
The maid, as by the papers doth appear, Whom fifty tho...

Tobacco.
Let poets rhyme of what they will, Youth, Beauty, Love...

Inscription For A Tobacco Jar.
Keep me at hand; and as my fumes arise, You'll find _a...

My Little Brown Pipe.
I have a little comforter, I carry in my pocket: ...

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

A Brief Puff Of Smoke.
Great Doctor Parr, the learned Whig, Ne'er deemed the ...

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

To C.f. Bradford.
_ON THE GIFT OF A MEERSCHAUM PIPE._ The pipe came safe...

Motto For A Tobacco Jar.
Come! don't refuse sweet Nicotina's aid, But woo the...

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



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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