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 Smoker's Calendar.
When January's cold appears, A glowing pipe my spirit ...

Knickerbocker.
Shade of Herrick, Muse of Locker, Help me sing of Knic...

Virginia Tobacco.
Two maiden dames of sixty-two Together long had dwel...

Effusion By A Cigar Smoker.
Warriors! who from the cannon's mouth blow fire, ...

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

The Betrothed.
"_YOU MUST CHOOSE BETWEEN ME AND YOUR CIGAR._" Open the ...

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

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

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

A Good Cigar.
Oh, 'tis well and enough, A whiff or a puff From th...

She.
The hateful man! 'Twould vex a saint! Around my pretty...

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

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

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

Chibouque.
At Yeni-Djami, after Rhamadan, The pacha in his pala...

Edifying Reflections Of A Tobacco-smoker.
_SET TO MUSIC BY JOHANN SEBASTIAN BACH. AUTHOR UNKNOWN. TRANS...

My Pipe.
When love grows cool, thy fire still warms me; When fr...

Song Of The Smoke-wreaths.
_SUNG TO THE SMOKERS._ Not like clouds that cap the mo...

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

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



MY FRIENDLY PIPE.








Let sybarites still dream delights
While smoking cigarettes,
Whose opiates get in their pates
Till waking brings regrets;
Oh, let them doze, devoid of woes,
Of troubles, and of frets.

And let the chap who loves to nap
With his cigar in hand
Pursue his way, and live his day,
As runs time's changing sand;
Let him delight by day and night
In his peculiar brand.

But as for me, I love to be
Provided with a pipe,--
A rare old bowl to warm my soul,
A meerschaum brown and ripe,--
With good plug cut, no stump or butt,
Nor filthy gutter-snipe.

My joys increase! It brings me peace
As nothing else can do;
From all the strife of daily life
Here my relief is true.
I watch its rings; it purrs and sings--
And then it's cheaper, too!

_Detroit Tribune_.





Next: ODE TO TOBACCO.

Previous: A GOOD 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 3501