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Smoking Poems

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

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

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

Song Of The Smoke-wreaths.
_SUNG TO THE SMOKERS._ Not like clouds that cap the mo...

Meerschaum.
Come to me, O my meerschaum, For the vile street organ...

Two Other Hearts.
Full tender beamed the light of love down from his manl...

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

Confession Of A Cigar Smoker.
I owe to smoking, more or less, Through life the whole...

Old Pipe Of Mine.
Companion of my lonely hours, Full many a time 'twix...

On A Broken Pipe.
Neglected now it lies, a cold clay form, So late with ...

Edifying Reflections Of A Tobacco-smoker.
_SET TO MUSIC BY JOHANN SEBASTIAN BACH. AUTHOR UNKNOWN. TRANS...

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

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

Cannon Song.
And it has turned since you and I Set out to face th...

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

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

Tobacco.
Let poets rhyme of what they will, Youth, Beauty, Love...

My Meerschaum Pipe.
Old meerschaum pipe, I'll fondly wipe Thy scarred an...

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

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



TOBACCO.








The Indian weed, withered quite,
Green at noon, cut down at night,
Shows thy decay; all flesh is hay,
Thus thinke, then drinke tobacco.

The pipe that is so lily-white,
Shows thee to be a mortal wight;
And even such, gone with a touch,
Thus thinke, then drinke tobacco.

And when the smoke ascends on high,
Thinke thou beholdst the vanity
Of worldly stuffe, gone with a puffe,
Thus thinke, then drinke tobacco.

And when the pipe grows foul within,
Think on thy soule defil'd with sin,
And then the fire it doth require.
Thus thinke, then drinke tobacco.

The ashes that are left behind,
May serve to put thee still in mind,
That unto dust return thou must.
Thus thinke, then drinke tobacco.

GEORGE WITHER, 1620.





Next: VIRGINIA'S KINGLY PLANT.

Previous: CANNON SONG.



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