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

Smoking Poems

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

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

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

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

To See Her Pipe Awry.
Betty bouncer kept a stall At the corner of a street...

The Patriotic Smoker's Lament.
Tell me, shade of Walter Raleigh, Briton of the true...

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

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

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

Tobacco.
Let poets rhyme of what they will, Youth, Beauty, Love...

Geordie To His Tobacco-pipe.
Good pipe, old friend, old black and colored friend, W...

It May Be Weeds.
It may be weeds I've gathered too; But even weeds...

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

The Farmer's Pipe.
Make a picture, dreamy smoke, In my still and cosey ...

My Friendly Pipe.
Let sybarites still dream delights While smoking cig...

On Receipt Of A Rare Pipe.
I lifted off the lid with anxious care, Removed the ...

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

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

A Bachelor's Views.
A pipe, a book, A cosy nook, A fire,--at least ...

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



IN ROTTEN ROW.








In Rotten Row a cigarette
I sat and smoked, with no regret
For all the tumult that had been.
The distances were still and green,
And streaked with shadows cool and wet.

Two sweethearts on a bench were set,
Two birds among the boughs were met;
So love and song were heard and seen
In Rotten Row.

A horse or two there was to fret
The soundless sand; but work and debt,
Fair flowers and falling leaves between,
While clocks are chiming clear and keen,
A man may very well forget
In Rotten Row.

W.E. HENLEY.





Next: THE DUET.

Previous: CHIBOUQUE.



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 3583