VIEW THE MOBILE VERSION of www.giveup.ca Informational Site Network Informational
Privacy
   Home - Smoking Articles - History of Smoking - Poems about Smoking - Giving up Alcohol

Smoking Poems

Ad Nicotina.
"_A CONSTRAINED HYPERBOLE._" Let others sing the prais...

The Pipe You Make Yourself.
There's clay pipes an' briar pipes an' meerschaum pipes a...

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

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

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

Effusion By A Cigar Smoker.
Warriors! who from the cannon's mouth blow fire, ...

A Loss.
How hard a thing it is to part From those we love an...

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

Smoking Away.
Floating away like the fountains' spray, Or the snow...

The Discovery Of Tobacco.
'Twas in the days of good Queen Bess,-- Or p'raps a ...

A Valentine.
What's my love's name? Guess her name. Nina? No....

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

Smoking Song.
With grateful twirl our smoke-wreaths curl, As mist ...

Ashes.
Wrapped in a sadly tattered gown, Alone I puff my brie...

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

Pernicious Weed!
The pipe, with solemn interposing puff, Makes half a s...

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

Meerschaum.
Come to me, O my meerschaum, For the vile street organ...

To The Tobacco Pipe.
Dear piece of fascinating clay! 'Tis thine to smooth l...

A Pot, And A Pipe Of Tobacco.
Some praise taking snuff; And 'tis pleasant en...



A WARNING.








HE.

I loathe all books. I hate to see
The world and men through others' eyes;
My own are good enough for me.
These scribbling fellows I despise;
They bore me.
I used to try to read a bit,
But, when I did, a sleepy fit
Came o'er me.

Yet here I sit with pensive look,
Filling my pipe with fragrant loads,
Gazing in rapture at a book!--
A free translation of the Odes
Of Horace.
'Tis owned by sweet Elizabeth,
And breathes a subtle, fragrant breath
Of orris.

I longed for something that was hers
To cheer me when I'm feeling low;
I saw this book of paltry verse,
And asked to take it home--and so
She lent it.
I love her deep and tenderly,
Yet dare not tell my love, lest she
Resent it.

I'll learn to quote a stanza here,
A couplet there. I'm very sure
'Twould aid my suit could I appear
_Au fait_ in books and literature.
I'll do it!
This jingle I can quickly learn;
Then, hid in roses, I'll return
Her poet!





Next: SHE.

Previous: MY MEERSCHAUM PIPE.



Add to del.icio.us Add to Reddit Add to Digg Add to Del.icio.us Add to Google Add to Twitter Add to Stumble Upon
Add to Informational Site Network
Report
Privacy
SHAREADD TO EBOOK


Viewed 6159