Informational Site NetworkInformational Site Network
Privacy
 
   Home - Smoking Articles - History of Smoking - Poems about Smoking - Giving up Alcohol

Smoking Poems

To My Meerschaum.
There's a charm in the sun-crested hills, In the qui...

Latakia.
I. When all the panes are hung with frost, Wild wiz...

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

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

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

Cannon Song.
Come, seniors, come, and fill your pipes, Your richest...

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

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

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

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

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

Another Match.
_AFTER A.C. SWINBURNE._ If love were dhudeen olden, ...

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

Cigars And Beer.
Here With my beer I sit, While g...

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

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

The Happy Smoking-ground.
When that last pipe is smoked at last And pouch and ...

My Three Loves.
When Life was all a summer day, And I was under twenty...

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...



CIGARS AND BEER.








Here
With my beer
I sit,
While golden moments flit.
Alas!
They pass
Unheeded by;
And, as they fly,
I,
Being dry,
Sit idly sipping here
My beer.

Oh, finer far
Than fame or riches are
The graceful smoke-wreaths of this cigar!
Why
Should I
Weep, wail, or sigh?
What if luck has passed me by?
What if my hopes are dead,
My pleasures fled?
Have I not still
My fill
Of right good cheer,--
Cigars and beer?

Go, whining youth,
Forsooth!
Go, weep and wail,
Sigh and grow pale,
Weave melancholy rhymes
On the old times,
Whose joys like shadowy ghosts appear,--
But leave me to my beer!
Gold is dross,
Love is loss;
So, if I gulp my sorrows down,
Or see them drown
In foamy draughts of old nut-brown,
Then do I wear the crown
Without a cross!

GEORGE ARNOLD.





Next: EFFUSION BY A CIGAR SMOKER.

Previous: TO MY CIGAR.



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 2339