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

Smoking Poems

The Discovery Of Tobacco.
'Twas in the days of good Queen Bess,-- Or p'raps a ...

The Smoke Traveller.
When I puff my cigarette, Straight I see a Spanish g...

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

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

The Discovery Of Tobacco.
_A SAILOR'S VERSION_. They were three jolly sailors bo...

To My Meerschaum.
There's a charm in the sun-crested hills, In the qui...

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

"a Free Puff."
Do you remember when first we met? I was turning twent...

The Latest Convert.
I've been in love some scores of times, With Amy, Ne...

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

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

Motto For A Tobacco Jar.
Come! don't refuse sweet Nicotina's aid, But woo the...

A Loss.
How hard a thing it is to part From those we love an...

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

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

Wrongfellow.
I like cigars Beneath the stars, Upon the water...

Acrostic.
To thee, blest weed, whose sovereign wiles, O'er cankere...

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

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

Seasonable Sweets.
"_DON'T BE FLOWERY, JACOB._"--CHARLES DICKENS. When th...



SMOKING SONG.








With grateful twirl our smoke-wreaths curl,
As mist from the waterfall given,
Or the locks that float round beauty's throat
In the whispering air of even.

_Chorus_. Then drown the fears of the coming years,
And the dread of change before us;
The way is sweet to our willing feet,
With the smoke-wreaths twining o'er us.

As the light beams through the ringlets blue,
Will hope beam through our sorrow,
While the gathering wreath of the smoke we breathe
Shuts out the fear of to-morrow.

A magic charm in the evening calm
Calls thought from mem'ry's treasure;
But clear and bright in the liquid light
Are the smoke-called dreams of pleasure.

Then who shall chide, with boasting pride,
Delights they ne'er have tasted?
Oh, let them smile while we beguile
The hour with joys they've wasted.

_College Song._





Next: HOW IT ONCE WAS.

Previous: THE SMOKE TRAVELLER.



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 4344