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Smoking Poems

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

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

The Ballade Of Tobacco.
When verdant youth sees life afar, And first sets ou...

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

Wrongfellow.
I like cigars Beneath the stars, Upon the water...

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

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 ...

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

A Bachelor's Views.
A pipe, a book, A cosy nook, A fire,--at least ...

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

A Good Cigar.
Oh, 'tis well and enough, A whiff or a puff From th...

Henry Fielding.
Friend of my youth, companion of my later days. Wh...

To The Rev. Mr. Newton.
Says the Pipe to the Snuff-box, "I can't understand ...

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

Chibouque.
At Yeni-Djami, after Rhamadan, The pacha in his pala...

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

"a Free Puff."
Do you remember when first we met? I was turning twent...

Those Ashes.
Up to the frescoed ceiling The smoke of my cigarette...

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



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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