VIEW THE MOBILE VERSION of www.giveup.ca Informational Site Network Informational
Privacy
   Home - Smoking Articles - History of Smoking - Poems about Smoking - Giving up Alcohol

Smoking Poems

Epitaph
_ON A YOUNG LADY WHO DESIRED THAT TOBACCO MIGHT BE PLANTED OV...

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

On A Tobacco Jar.
Three hundred years ago or soe, One worthy knight an...

The True Leucothoe.
Let others praise the god of wine, Or Venus, love, a...

A Song Without A Name.
AIR: "_THE VICAR OF BRAY_." 'Twas in Queen Bess's gold...

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

He Respondeth.
SHE. You still persist in using, I observe with g...

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

Smoke And Chess.
We were sitting at chess as the sun went down; And he,...

'twas Off The Blue Canaries.
'Twas off the blue Canary isles, A glorious summer d...

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

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

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

She.
The hateful man! 'Twould vex a saint! Around my pretty...

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

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

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

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

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

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



TO THE TOBACCO PIPE.








Dear piece of fascinating clay!
'Tis thine to smooth life's rugged way,
To give a happiness unknown
To those--who let a pipe alone;
Thy tube can best the vapors chase,
By raising--others in their place;
Can give the face staid Wisdom's air,
And teach the lips--to ope with care;
'Tis hence thou art the truest friend
(Where least is said there's least to mend),
And he who ventures many a joke
Had better oft be still and smoke.

Whatever giddy foplings think,
Thou giv'st the highest zest to drink.
When fragrant clouds thy fumes exhale,
And hover round the nut-brown ale,
Who thinks of claret or champagne?
E'en burgundy were pour'd in vain.

'Tis not in city smoke alone,
Midst fogs and glooms thy charms are known.
With thee, at morn, the rustic swain
Tracks o'er the snow-besprinkled plain,
To seek some neighb'ring copse's side,
And rob the woodlands of their pride:
With thee, companion of his toil,
His active spirits ne'er recoil;
Though hard his daily task assign'd,
He bears it with an equal mind.

The fisher 'board some little bark,
When all around is drear and dark,
With shortened pipe beguiles the hour,
Though bleak the wind and cold the show'r,
Nor thinks the morn's approach too slow,
Regardless of what tempests blow.
Midst hills of sand, midst ditches, dikes,
Midst cannons, muskets, halberts, pikes;
With thee, as still, Mynheer can stay,
As Neddy 'twixt two wisps of hay;
Heedless of Britain and of France,
Smokes on--and looks to the main chance.

And sure the solace thou canst give
Must make thy fame unrivalled live,
So long as men can temper clay
(For as thou art, e'en so are they),
The sun mature the Indian weed,
And rolling years fresh sorrows breed.

From _The Meteors_, London.





Next: THE PATRIOTIC SMOKER'S LAMENT.

Previous: ON A TOBACCO JAR.



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 2679