Smoking Poems

The True Leucothoe.
Let others praise the god of wine, Or Venus, love, a...

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

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

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

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

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

Tobacco Is An Indian Weed.
Tobacco's but an Indian weed, Grows green at morn, cut...

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

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

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

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

A Bachelor's Soliloquy.
I sit all alone with my pipe by the fire, I ne'er kn...

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

The Ballad Of The Pipe.
Oh, give me but Virginia's weed, An earthen bowl, a st...

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

If I Were King.
If I were king, my pipe should be premier. The skies o...

In The Ol' Tobacker Patch.
I jess kind o' feel so lonesome that I don't know what to...

Sublime Tobacco.
But here the herald of the self-same mouth Came breath...

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

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