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

With Pipe And Book.
With Pipe and Book at close of day, Oh, what is sweete...

Ode To Tobacco.
Come then, Tobacco, new-found friend, Come, and thy ...

To The Tobacco Pipe.
Dear piece of fascinating clay! 'Tis thine to smooth l...

The Cigar.
Some sigh for this and that, My wishes don't go far;...

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

My Cigarette.
My cigarette! The amulet That charms afar unrest and...

A Pipe Of Tobacco.
Let the toper regale in his tankard of ale, Or with ...

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

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

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

The Smoker's Reverie.
(_OCTOBER._) I'm sitting at dusk 'neath the old beeche...

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

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

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

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

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

To My Cigar.
The warmth of thy glow, Well-lighted cigar, Makes h...

Clouds.
Mortals say their heart is light When the clouds aroun...

Smoking Song.
With grateful twirl our smoke-wreaths curl, As mist ...

Song Of The Smoke-wreaths.
_SUNG TO THE SMOKERS._ Not like clouds that cap the mo...



THE LOST LOTUS.








'Tis said that in the sun-embroidered East,
There dwelt a race whose softly flowing hours
Passed like the vision of a royal feast,
By Nero given in the Baian bowers;
Thanks to the lotus-blossom spell,
Their lives were one long miracle.

In after years the passing sons of men
Looked for those lotus blossoms all in vain,
Through every hillside, glade, and glen
And e'en the isles of many a main;
Yet through the centuries some doom,
Forbade them see the lotus bloom.

The Old World wearied of the long pursuit,
And called the sacred leaf a poet's theme,
When lo! the New World, rich in flower and fruit,
Revealed the lotus, lovelier than the dream
That races of the long past days did haunt,--
The green-leaved, amber-tipped tobacco plant.

ANON.





Next: THE SCENT OF A GOOD CIGAR.

Previous: EDIFYING REFLECTIONS OF A TOBACCO-SMOKER.



Add to Informational Site Network
Report
Privacy
ADD TO EBOOK


Viewed 3597