Many years ago, the few readers of radical Abolitionist papers must often have seen the singular name of Sojourner Truth, announced as a frequent speaker at Anti-Slavery meetings, and as travelling on a sort of self-appointed agenc... Read more of SOJOURNER TRUTH, THE LIBYAN SIBYL at Martin Luther King.caInformational Site Network Informational
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Smoking Poems

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

A Pipe Of Tobacco.
Let the toper regale in his tankard of ale, Or with ...

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

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

Ode To My Pipe.
O Blessed pipe, That now I clutch within my gripe, ...

The Last Pipe.
When head is sick and brain doth swim, And heavy hangs...

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

An Old Sweetheart Of Mine.
As one who cons at evening o'er an album all alone, An...

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

A Winter Evening Hymn To My Fire.
Nicotia, dearer to the Muse Than all the grape's bewil...

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

The Scent Of A Good Cigar.
What is it comes through the deepening dusk,-- Somethi...

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

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

Titlepage Dedication.
"Let those smoke now who never smoked before, And those ...

Maecenas Bids His Friend To Dine.
I beg you come to-night and dine. A welcome waits you, a...

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

My Meerschaum Pipe.
Old meerschaum pipe, I'll fondly wipe Thy scarred an...

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

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



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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