_Tis a gift to be simple Tis a gift to be free, Tis a gift to come down Where we ought to be. And when we find ourselves In a place just right, It will be in the valley Of love and delight._ Old Shaker Hymn Favorite of Dr. Isabelle Mo... Read more of Forward at Difficult.caInformational Site Network Informational
Privacy
   Home - Smoking Articles - History of Smoking - Poems about Smoking - Giving up Alcohol

Smoking Poems

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

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

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

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

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

He Respondeth.
SHE. You still persist in using, I observe with g...

The Cigar.
Some sigh for this and that, My wishes don't go far;...

Ingin Summer.
Jest about the time when Fall Gits to rattlin' in th...

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

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

On A Tobacco Jar.
Three hundred years ago or soe, One worthy knight an...

Ode To Tobacco.
Come then, Tobacco, new-found friend, Come, and thy ...

Sweet Smoking Pipe.
Sweet smoking pipe; bright glowing stove, Companion ...

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

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

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

To My Cigar.
Yes, social friend, I love thee well, In learned doc...

A Song Without A Name.
AIR: "_THE VICAR OF BRAY_." 'Twas in Queen Bess's gold...

Old Pipe Of Mine.
Companion of my lonely hours, Full many a time 'twix...

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



EPITAPH








_ON A YOUNG LADY WHO DESIRED THAT TOBACCO MIGHT BE PLANTED OVER HER
GRAVE._


Let no cold marble o'er my body rise--
But only earth above, and sunny skies.
Thus would I lowly lie in peaceful rest,
Nursing the Herb Divine from out my breast.
Green let it grow above this clay of mine,
Deriving strength from strength that I resign.
So in the days to come, when I'm beyond
This fickle life, will come my lovers fond,
And gazing on the plant, their grief restrain
In whispering, "Lo! dear Anna blooms again!"





Next: THE SMOKER'S REVERIE.

Previous: A PIPE OF TOBACCO.



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 3150