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

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

Invocation To Tobacco.
Weed of the strange flower, weed of the earth, Killer ...

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

A Warning.
HE. I loathe all books. I hate to see The world a...

Virginia's Kingly Plant.
_BY AN "OLD SALT."_ Oh, muse! grant me the power (I...

My Cigarette.
Ma pauvre petite, My little sweet, Why do you cry...

My Meerschaums.
Long pipes and short ones, straight and curved, High...

The Pipe Critic.
Say, pipe, let's talk of love; Canst aid me?...

On A Broken Pipe.
Neglected now it lies, a cold clay form, So late with ...

Those Ashes.
Up to the frescoed ceiling The smoke of my cigarette...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

My Cigarette.
My cigarette! The amulet That charms afar unrest and...

Too Great A Sacrifice.
The maid, as by the papers doth appear, Whom fifty tho...

Smoking Spiritualized.
The following old poem was long ascribed, on apparently...



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 2771