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

Smoking Poems

Mortals say their heart is light When the clouds aroun...

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

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

The True Leucothoe.
Let others praise the god of wine, Or Venus, love, a...

To My Cigar.
The warmth of thy glow, Well-lighted cigar, Makes h...

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

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

My Pipe And I.
There may be comrades in this world, As stanch and t...

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

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

To C.f. Bradford.
_ON THE GIFT OF A MEERSCHAUM PIPE._ The pipe came safe...

A Symphony In Smoke.
A pretty, piquant, pouting pet, Who likes to muse and ...

Smoke Is The Food Of Lovers.
When Cupid open'd shop, the trade he chose Was just th...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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



When the year is young, what sweets are flung
By the violets, hiding, dim,
And the lilac that sways her censers high,
Whilst the skylark chants a hymn!
How sweet is the scent of the daffodil bloom,
When blithe spring decks each spray,
And the flowering thorn sheds rare perfume
Through the beautiful month of May!
What a dainty pet is the mignonette,
Whose sweets wide scattered are!
But sweeter to me than all these yet
Is the scent of a prime cigar!

Delicious airs waft the fields of June,
When the beans are all in flower;
The woodruff is fragrant in the hedge,
And the woodbine in the bower.
Sweet eglantine doth her garlands twine
For the blithe hours as they run,
And balmily sighs the meadow-sweet,
That is all in love with the sun,
Whilst new-mown hay o'er the hedgerows gay
Flings odorous airs afar;
Yet sweeter than these on the passing breeze
Is the scent of a prime cigar.

When all the beauties of Flora's court
Smile on the gay parterre,
What glorious color, what exquisite form,
And dainty scents are there!
They bask in the beam, and bend by the stream,
Like beautiful nymphs at play,
Holding dew-pearls up in each nectar cup
To the glorious God of Day.
Oh, their lives are sweet, but all too brief,
And death doth their sweetness mar;
But fragrance fine is forever thine,
My well-beloved cigar!



Previous: IT MAY BE WEEDS.

Add to Add to Reddit Add to Digg Add to Add to Google Add to Twitter Add to Stumble Upon
Add to Informational Site Network

Viewed 3858