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 Dreamer's Pipe.
Meerschaum, thing with amber tip, Clutched between the...

Ode To My Pipe.
O Blessed pipe, That now I clutch within my gripe, ...

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

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

My Little Brown Pipe.
I have a little comforter, I carry in my pocket: ...

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

How It Once Was.
Right stout and strong the worthy burghers stood, ...

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

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

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

Pipes And Beer.
Before I was famous I used to sit In a dull old unde...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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



SMOKE IS THE FOOD OF LOVERS.








When Cupid open'd shop, the trade he chose
Was just the very one you might suppose.
Love keep a shop?--his trade, oh! quickly name!
A dealer in tobacco--fie, for shame!
No less than true, and set aside all joke,
From oldest time he ever dealt in smoke;
Than smoke, no other thing he sold, or made;
Smoke all the substance of his stock in trade;
His capital all smoke, smoke all his store,
'Twas nothing else; but lovers ask no more--
And thousands enter daily at his door!
Hence it was ever, and it e'er will be
The trade most suited to his faculty:
Fed by the vapors of their heart's desire,
No other food his votaries require;
For that they seek--the favor of the fair--
Is unsubstantial as the smoke and air.

JACOB CATS: _Moral Emblems_.





Next: CLOUDS.

Previous: MY THREE LOVES.



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 2464