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

"keats Took Snuff."
"Keats took snuff.... It has been established by the ...

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

In The Ol' Tobacker Patch.
I jess kind o' feel so lonesome that I don't know what to...

A Brief Puff Of Smoke.
Great Doctor Parr, the learned Whig, Ne'er deemed the ...

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

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

Cigars And Beer.
Here With my beer I sit, While g...

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

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

My Meerschaum Pipe.
Old meerschaum pipe, I'll fondly wipe Thy scarred an...

Cigarette Rings.
How it blows! How it rains! I'll not turn out to-night; ...

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

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

The Happy Smoking-ground.
When that last pipe is smoked at last And pouch and ...

In Wreaths Of Smoke.
In wreaths of smoke, blown waywardwise, Faces of o...

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

A Valentine.
What's my love's name? Guess her name. Nina? No....

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

Ode To Tobacco.
Come then, Tobacco, new-found friend, Come, and thy ...

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



SMOKE AND CHESS.








We were sitting at chess as the sun went down;
And he, from his meerschaum's glossy brown,
With a ring of smoke made his king a crown.

The cherry stem, with its amber tip,
Thoughtfully rested on his lip,
As the goblet's rim from which heroes sip.

And, looking out through the early green,
He called on his patron saint, I ween,--
That misty maiden, Saint Nicotine,--

While ever rested that crown so fair,
Poised in the warm and pulseless air,
On the carven chessman's ivory hair.

Dreamily wandered the game along,
Quietly moving at even-song,
While the striving kings stood firm and strong,

Until that one which of late was crowned
Flinched from a knight's determined bound,
And in sullen majesty left the ground,

Reeling back; and it came to pass
That, waiting to mutter no funeral mass,
A bishop had dealt him the _coup de grace_.

And so, as we sat, we reasoned still
Of fate and of fortune, of human will,
And what are the purposes men fulfil.

For we see at last, when the truth arrives,
The moves on the chess-board of our lives,--
That fields may be lost, though the king survives.

Not always he whom the world reveres
Merits its honor or wins its cheers,
Standing the best at the end of the years.

Not always he who has lost the fight
Rises again with the coming light,
Battles anew for his ancient right.

SAMUEL W. DUFFIELD.





Next: INSCRIPTION FOR A TOBACCO JAR.

Previous: SONG OF THE SMOKE-WREATHS.



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 2803