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Smoking Poems

Ode To My Pipe.
O Blessed pipe, That now I clutch within my gripe, ...

The Smoker's Calendar.
When January's cold appears, A glowing pipe my spirit ...

She.
The hateful man! 'Twould vex a saint! Around my pretty...

Envoi.
Smokers, who doubt or con or pro, And ye who dare to...

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

The Patriotic Smoker's Lament.
Tell me, shade of Walter Raleigh, Briton of the true...

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

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

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

Smoking Away.
Floating away like the fountains' spray, Or the snow...

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

Meerschaum.
Come to me, O my meerschaum, For the vile street organ...

My Cigarette.
_WORDS AND MUSIC BY RICHARD BARNARD_. To my sweet ciga...

On A Broken Pipe.
Neglected now it lies, a cold clay form, So late with ...

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

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

In Wreaths Of Smoke.
In wreaths of smoke, blown waywardwise, Faces of o...

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

My After-dinner Cloud.
Some sombre evening, when I sit And feed in solitude...

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



THE PIPE YOU MAKE YOURSELF.








There's clay pipes an' briar pipes an' meerschaum pipes as well,
There's plain pipes an' fancy pipes--things jes made to sell;
But any pipe that kin be bought fer marbles, chalk, or pelf,
Ain't ekal to the flaver of th' pipe you make yourself.

Jest take a common corn cob an' whittle out the middle,
Then plug up one end of it as tight as any fiddle;
Fit a stem into th' side an' lay her on th' shelf,
An' when she's dry you take her down, that pipe you made yourself.

Cram her full clar to th' brim with nachral leaf, you bet--
'T will smoke a trifle better for bein' somewhat wet--
Take your worms and fishin' pole, and a jug along for health,
An' you'll get a taste o' heaven from that pipe you made yourself.

There's clay pipes an' briar pipes an' meerschaum pipes as well,
There's plain pipes an' fancy pipes--things jes made to sell;
But any pipe that kin be bought for marbles, chalk, or pelf,
Ain't ekal to th' flayer of the pipe you make yourself.

HENRY E. BROWN.





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Previous: IF I WERE KING.



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