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Smoking Poems

Tobacco.
The Indian weed, withered quite, Green at noon, cut do...

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

A Bachelor's Soliloquy.
I sit all alone with my pipe by the fire, I ne'er kn...

Sweet Smoking Pipe.
Sweet smoking pipe; bright glowing stove, Companion ...

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

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

A Poet's Pipe.
_FROM THE FRENCH OF CHARLES BAUDELAIRE._ A poet's pipe...

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

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

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

Cannon Song.
Come, seniors, come, and fill your pipes, Your richest...

Wrongfellow.
I like cigars Beneath the stars, Upon the water...

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

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

Cannon Song.
And it has turned since you and I Set out to face th...

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

What I Like.
To lie with half-closed eyes, as in a dream, Upon the ...

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

To My Cigar.
Yes, social friend, I love thee well, In learned doc...

Ad Nicotina.
"_A CONSTRAINED HYPERBOLE._" Let others sing the prais...



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.





Next: CHIBOUQUE.

Previous: IF I WERE KING.



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