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Smoking Poems

The Patriotic Smoker's Lament.
Tell me, shade of Walter Raleigh, Briton of the true...

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

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

The Lost Lotus.
'Tis said that in the sun-embroidered East, There dw...

'twas Off The Blue Canaries.
'Twas off the blue Canary isles, A glorious summer d...

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

Epitaph
_ON A YOUNG LADY WHO DESIRED THAT TOBACCO MIGHT BE PLANTED OV...

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

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

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

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

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

To See Her Pipe Awry.
Betty bouncer kept a stall At the corner of a street...

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

On A Broken Pipe.
Neglected now it lies, a cold clay form, So late with ...

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

Pipes And Beer.
Before I was famous I used to sit In a dull old unde...

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

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

Acrostic.
To thee, blest weed, whose sovereign wiles, O'er cankere...



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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