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

Smoking Poems

The Last Pipe.
When head is sick and brain doth swim, And heavy hangs...

An Ode Of Thanks For Certain Cigars.
_TO CHARLES ELIOT NORTON._ Luck, my dear Norton, still...

A Song Without A Name.
AIR: "_THE VICAR OF BRAY_." 'Twas in Queen Bess's gold...

Old Pipe Of Mine.
Companion of my lonely hours, Full many a time 'twix...

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

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

Epitaph
_ON A YOUNG LADY WHO DESIRED THAT TOBACCO MIGHT BE PLANTED OV...

In Rotten Row.
In Rotten Row a cigarette I sat and smoked, with no re...

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

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

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

On Receipt Of A Rare Pipe.
I lifted off the lid with anxious care, Removed the ...

A Good Cigar.
Oh, 'tis well and enough, A whiff or a puff From th...

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

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

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

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

It May Be Weeds.
It may be weeds I've gathered too; But even weeds...

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

The Lost Lotus.
'Tis said that in the sun-embroidered East, There dw...



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 2783