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

Smoking Poems

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

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

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

Ashes.
Wrapped in a sadly tattered gown, Alone I puff my brie...

The Dreamer's Pipe.
Meerschaum, thing with amber tip, Clutched between the...

To See Her Pipe Awry.
Betty bouncer kept a stall At the corner of a street...

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

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

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

Those Ashes.
Up to the frescoed ceiling The smoke of my cigarette...

The Betrothed.
"_YOU MUST CHOOSE BETWEEN ME AND YOUR CIGAR._" Open the ...

An Old Sweetheart Of Mine.
As one who cons at evening o'er an album all alone, An...

Maecenas Bids His Friend To Dine.
I beg you come to-night and dine. A welcome waits you, a...

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

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

To C.f. Bradford.
_ON THE GIFT OF A MEERSCHAUM PIPE._ The pipe came safe...

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

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...

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



THE SMOKE TRAVELLER.








When I puff my cigarette,
Straight I see a Spanish girl,--
Mantilla, fan, coquettish curl,
Languid airs and dimpled face,
Calculating, fatal grace;
Hear a twittering serenade
Under lofty balcony played;
Queen at bull-fight, naught she cares
What her agile lover dares;
She can love and quick forget.

Let me but my meerschaum light,
I behold a bearded man,
Built upon capacious plan,
Sabre-slashed in war or duel,
Gruff of aspect, but not cruel,
Metaphysically muddled,
With strong beer a little fuddled,
Slow in love, and deep in books,
More sentimental than he looks,
Swears new friendships every night.

Let me my chibouk enkindle,--
In a tent I'm quick set down
With a Bedouin, lean and brown,
Plotting gain of merchandise,
Or perchance of robber prize;
Clumsy camel load upheaving,
Woman deftly carpet-weaving,
Meal of dates and bread and salt,
While in azure heavenly vault
Throbbing stars begin to dwindle.

Glowing coal in clay dudheen
Carries me to sweet Killarney,
Full of hypocritic blarney,--
Huts with babies, pigs, and hens
Mixed together, bogs and fens,
Shillalahs, praties, usquebaugh,
Tenants defying hated law,
Fair blue eyes with lashes black,
Eyes black and blue from cudgel-thwack,--
So fair, so foul, is Erin green.

My nargileh once inflamed,
Quick appears a Turk with turban,
Girt with guards in palace urban,
Or in house by summer sea
Slave-girls dancing languidly,
Bow-string, sack, and bastinado,
Black boats darting in the shadow;
Let things happen as they please,
Whether well or ill at ease,
Fate alone is blessed or blamed.

With my ancient calumet
I can raise a wigwam's smoke,
And the copper tribe invoke,--
Scalps and wampum, bows and knives,
Slender maidens, greasy wives,
Papoose hanging on a tree,
Chieftains squatting silently,
Feathers, beads, and hideous paint,
Medicine-man and wooden-saint,--
Forest-framed the vision set.

My cigar breeds many forms,--
Planter of the rich Havana
Mopping brow with sheer bandanna,
Russian prince in fur arrayed,
Paris fop on dress parade,
London swell just after dinner,
Wall Street broker--gambling sinner!
Delver in Nevada mine,
Scotch laird bawling "Auld Lang Syne."
Thus Raleigh's weed my fancy warms.

Life's review in smoke goes past,--
Fickle fortune, stubborn fate,
Right discovered all too late,
Beings loved and gone before,
Beings loved but friends no more,
Self-reproach and futile sighs,
Vanity in birth that dies,
Longing, heart-break, adoration,--
Nothing sure in expectation
Save ash-receiver at the last.

IRVING BROWNE.





Next: SMOKING SONG.

Previous: TWO OTHER HEARTS.



Add to del.icio.us Add to Reddit Add to Digg Add to Del.icio.us Add to Google Add to Twitter Add to Stumble Upon
Add to Informational Site Network
Report
Privacy
SHAREADD TO EBOOK


Viewed 3587