VIEW THE MOBILE VERSION of Informational Site Network Informational
   Home - Smoking Articles - History of Smoking - Poems about Smoking - Giving up Alcohol

Smoking Poems

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

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

"keats Took Snuff."
"Keats took snuff.... It has been established by the ...

Cigars And Beer.
Here With my beer I sit, While g...

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

The Discovery Of Tobacco.
'Twas in the days of good Queen Bess,-- Or p'raps a ...

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

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

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

The Happy Smoking-ground.
When that last pipe is smoked at last And pouch and ...

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

Effusion By A Cigar Smoker.
Warriors! who from the cannon's mouth blow fire, ...

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

A Winter Evening Hymn To My Fire.
Nicotia, dearer to the Muse Than all the grape's bewil...

Pipes And Beer.
Before I was famous I used to sit In a dull old unde...

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

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

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

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

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


Yes, social friend, I love thee well,
In learned doctor's spite;
Thy clouds all other clouds dispel,
And lap me in delight.

What though they tell, with phizzes long,
My years are sooner past!
I would reply with reason strong,
They're sweeter while they last.

When in the lonely evening hour,
Attended but by thee,
O'er history's varied page I pore,
Man's fate in thine I see.

Oft as the snowy column grows,
Then breaks and falls away,
I trace how mighty realms thus rose,
Thus tumbled to decay.

Awhile like thee earth's masters burn
And smoke and fume around;
And then, like thee, to ashes turn,
And mingle with the ground.

Life's but a leaf adroitly rolled,
And Time's the wasting breath
That, late or early, we behold
Gives all to dusty death.

From beggar's frieze to monarch's robe,
One common doom is passed;
Sweet Nature's works, the swelling globe,
Must all burn out at last.

And what is he who smokes thee now?
A little moving heap,
That soon, like thee, to fate must bow,
With thee in dust must sleep.

But though thy ashes downward go,
Thy essence rolls on high;
Thus, when my body lieth low,
My soul shall cleave the sky.




Add to Add to Reddit Add to Digg Add to Add to Google Add to Twitter Add to Stumble Upon
Add to Informational Site Network

Viewed 2371