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

Smoking Poems

Edifying Reflections Of A Tobacco-smoker.
_SET TO MUSIC BY JOHANN SEBASTIAN BACH. AUTHOR UNKNOWN. TRANS...

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

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

My Meerschaums.
Long pipes and short ones, straight and curved, High...

To The Rev. Mr. Newton.
Says the Pipe to the Snuff-box, "I can't understand ...

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

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

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

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

Latakia.
I. When all the panes are hung with frost, Wild wiz...

Pipe And Tobacco.
When my pipe burns bright and clear, The gods I need n...

Pernicious Weed!
The pipe, with solemn interposing puff, Makes half a s...

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

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

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

Those Ashes.
Up to the frescoed ceiling The smoke of my cigarette...

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

A Pot, And A Pipe Of Tobacco.
Some praise taking snuff; And 'tis pleasant en...

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

Confession Of A Cigar Smoker.
I owe to smoking, more or less, Through life the whole...



SUBLIME TOBACCO.








But here the herald of the self-same mouth
Came breathing o'er the aromatic South,
Not like a "bed of violets" on the gale,
But such as wafts its cloud o'er grog or ale,
Borne from a short, frail pipe, which yet had blown
Its gentle odors over either zone,
And, puff'd where'er minds rise or waters roll,
Had wafted smoke from Portsmouth to the Pole,
Opposed its vapor as the lightning flash'd,
And reek'd, 'midst mountain billows unabashed,
To AEolus a constant sacrifice,
Through every change of all the varying skies.
And what was he who bore it? I may err,
But deem him sailor or philosopher.
Sublime tobacco! which from east to west
Cheers the tar's labor or the Turkman's rest;
Which on the Moslem's ottoman divides
His hours, and rivals opiums and his brides;
Magnificent in Stamboul, but less grand,
Though not less loved, in Wapping on the Strand;
Divine in hookas, glorious in a pipe,
When tipp'd with amber, mellow, rich, and ripe;
Like other charmers, wooing the caress
More dazzlingly when daring in full dress;
Yet thy true lovers more admire by far
Thy naked beauties,--give me a cigar!

LORD BYRON:

_The Island, Canto ii., Stanza 19._





Next: SMOKING AWAY.

Previous: THE DREAMER'S PIPE.



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 2700