Mind Reading.ca - Download the EBook Mind ReadingInformational Site Network Informational
Privacy
   Home - Smoking Articles - History of Smoking - Poems about Smoking - Giving up Alcohol

Smoking Poems

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

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

Her Brother's Cigarette.
Like raven's wings her locks of jet, Her soft eyes tou...

My Little Brown Pipe.
I have a little comforter, I carry in my pocket: ...

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

The Lost Lotus.
'Tis said that in the sun-embroidered East, There dw...

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

To An Old Pipe.
Once your smoothly polished face Nestled lightly in a ...

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

Another Match.
_AFTER A.C. SWINBURNE._ If love were dhudeen olden, ...

The Pipe You Make Yourself.
There's clay pipes an' briar pipes an' meerschaum pipes a...

It May Be Weeds.
It may be weeds I've gathered too; But even weeds...

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

My Cigarette.
My cigarette! The amulet That charms afar unrest and...

My Meerschaums.
Long pipes and short ones, straight and curved, High...

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

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

Seasonable Sweets.
"_DON'T BE FLOWERY, JACOB._"--CHARLES DICKENS. When th...

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

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



TO THE REV. MR. NEWTON.








Says the Pipe to the Snuff-box, "I can't understand
What the ladies and gentlemen see in your face,
That you are in fashion all over the land,
And I am so much fallen into disgrace.

"Do but see what a pretty contemplative air
I give to the company,--pray do but note 'em,--
You would think that the wise men of Greece were all there,
Or, at least, would suppose them the wise men of Gotham.

"My breath is as sweet as the breath of blown roses,
While you are a nuisance where'er you appear;
There is nothing but snivelling and blowing of noses,
Such a noise as turns any man's stomach to hear."

Then, lifting his lid in a delicate way,
And opening his mouth with a smile quite engaging.
The Box in reply was heard plainly to say,
"What a silly dispute is this we are Waging!

"If you have a little of merit to claim,
You may thank the sweet-smelling Virginian weed;
And I, if I seem to deserve any blame,
The before-mentioned drug in apology plead.

"Thus neither the praise nor the blame is our own,
No room for a sneer, much less a cachinnus;
We are vehicles, not of tobacco alone,
But of anything else they may choose to put in us."

WM. COWPER.





Next: A LOSS.

Previous: SHE.



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 3364