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

Smoking Poems

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

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

'twas Off The Blue Canaries.
'Twas off the blue Canary isles, A glorious summer d...

Choosing A Wife By A Pipe Of Tobacco.
Tube, I love thee as my life; By thee I mean to choose...

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

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

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

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

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

The Pipe Critic.
Say, pipe, let's talk of love; Canst aid me?...

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

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

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

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

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

Titlepage Dedication.
"Let those smoke now who never smoked before, And those ...

Geordie To His Tobacco-pipe.
Good pipe, old friend, old black and colored friend, W...

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

A Winter Evening Hymn To My Fire.
Nicotia, dearer to the Muse Than all the grape's bewil...

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



THE BALLAD OF THE PIPE.








Oh, give me but Virginia's weed,
An earthen bowl, a stem of reed,
What care I for the weather?
Though winter freeze and summer broil
We rest us from our days of toil
My Pipe and I together!

Like to a priest of sacred fane,
I nightly light the glow again
With reverence and pleasure;
For through this plain and modest bowl
I coax sweet mem'ry to my soul
And many trippings measure!

There's comfort in each puff of smoke,
Defiance to ill-fortune's stroke
And happiness forever!
There grows a volume full of thought
And humor, than the book you bought
Holds nothing half so clever!

The summer fragrance, all pent up
Among the leaves, is here sent up
In dreams of summer glory;
And these blue clouds that slowly rise
Were colored by the summer skies,
And tell a summer story.

And oh! the happiest, sweetest times
Come ringing all their silver chimes
Of merry songs and laughter;
And all that may be well and worth
For Mother Future to bring forth
I do imagine after.

What care I if my poor means
Clad not my walls with splendid scenes
And pictures by the masters;
Here in the curling smoke-wreath glow
Bold hills and lovely vales below,
And brooks with nodding asters.

All that on earth is fair and fine,
This fragrant magic makes it mine,
And gives me sole dominion;
And if you call me fanciful,
I only take a stronger pull,
And laugh at your opinion.

Let others fret and fume with care,
'Tis easy finding everywhere,
But happiness is rarer;
And if I find it sweet and ripe,
In this tobacco and my pipe,
I'll count it all the fairer.

Then give me but Virginia's weed,
An earthen bowl, a stem of reed,
What care I for the weather?
Though winter freeze, or summer broil
We rest us from the days of toil,
My Pipe and I together.

HERMANN RAVE.





Next: THE OLD CLAY PIPE.

Previous: "KEATS TOOK SNUFF."



Add to Informational Site Network
Report
Privacy
ADD TO EBOOK


Viewed 4114