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Smoking Poems

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

Smoking Away.
Floating away like the fountains' spray, Or the snow...

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

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

The Old Clay Pipe.
There's a lot of solid comfort In an old clay pipe, ...

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

A Winter Evening Hymn To My Fire.
Nicotia, dearer to the Muse Than all the grape's bewil...

My Cigarette.
_WORDS AND MUSIC BY RICHARD BARNARD_. To my sweet ciga...

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

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

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

In Favor Of Tobacco.
Much victuals serves for gluttony To fatten men like s...

The Ballade Of Tobacco.
When verdant youth sees life afar, And first sets ou...

With Pipe And Book.
With Pipe and Book at close of day, Oh, what is sweete...

Sic Transit.
Just a note that I found on my table, By the bills of ...

If I Were King.
If I were king, my pipe should be premier. The skies o...

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

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

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

My Cigar.
In spite of my physician, who is, _entre nous_, a fogy, ...



PIPE AND TOBACCO.








When my pipe burns bright and clear,
The gods I need not envy here;
And as the smoke fades in the wind,
Our fleeting life it brings to mind.

Noble weed! that comforts life,
And art with calmest pleasures rife;
Heaven grant thee sunshine and warm rain,
And to thy planter health and gain.

Through thee, friend of my solitude,
With hope and patience I'm endued,
Deep sinks thy power within my heart,
And cares and sorrows all depart.

Then let non-smokers rail forever;
Shall their hard words true friends dissever?
Pleasure's too rare to cast away
My pipe, for what the railers say!

When love grows cool, thy fire still warms me,
When friends are fled, thy presence charms me;
If thou art full, though purse be bare,
I smoke, and cast away all care!

_German Folk Song._





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