Smoking Poems

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

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

A Symphony In Smoke.
A pretty, piquant, pouting pet, Who likes to muse and ...

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

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

A Loss.
How hard a thing it is to part From those we love an...

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

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

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

Acrostic.
To thee, blest weed, whose sovereign wiles, O'er cankere...

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

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

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

The Old Clay Pipe.
There's a lot of solid comfort In an old clay pipe, ...

Sublime Tobacco.
But here the herald of the self-same mouth Came breath...

My Pipe.
When love grows cool, thy fire still warms me; When fr...

My Cigarette.
Ma pauvre petite, My little sweet, Why do you cry...

My Three Loves.
When Life was all a summer day, And I was under twenty...

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

Ode To Tobacco.
Thou, who when fears attack Bidst them avaunt, and Bla...