Poetry from Tobacco in Song and Story

The theme of these poems ought to be apparent. Sight them as often as you can.

"She"

Yes, Dear,
I fear,
I love another, strange to say.
Brunette.
This pet,
And I am with her night and day.
Just now,
I vow,
I pressed her fondly to my lips;
The kiss,
Was bliss,
And thrilled me to my finger tips!
Don't pout,
She's out,
And You are sweeter, love, by far,
Altho'
By Jo!
"She" was an awful good cigar!

By Carl Werner.

A Bachelor's Soliloquy

My oldest pipe, mt dearest girl,
Alas! Which shall it be?
For she has said that I must choose,
Betwixt herself and thee.

Farewell, old pipe; for many years,
You've been my closest friend,
And ever ready at my side,
Thy solace sweet to lend.

No more from out thy weedy bowl,
When fades the twilight's glow,
Will visions fair and sweet arise,
Or fragrant fancies flow.

No more by flickering candle light,
Thy spirit I'll evoke,
To build my castle in the air,
With wreaths of wav'ring smoke.

And so farewell, a long farewell -
Until the wedding's o'er,
And then I'll go on smoking thee,
Just as I did before.

by Edmund Day

Choosing a Wife by a Pipe of Tobacco

Tube, I love thee as my life;
By thee I mean to choose a wife.
Tube, thy color let me find,
In her skin and in her mind.
Let her have a shape as fine;
Let her breath be sweet as thine;
Let her, when her lips I kiss,
Burn like thee to give me bliss;
Let her in some smoke or other,
All my failings kindly smother.
Often when my thoughts are low,
Send them where they ought to go;
When to study I incline,
Let her aid be such as thine;
Such as thine the charming power,
In the vacant social hour.
Let her live to give delight,
Ever warm and ever bright;
Let her deeds, whene'er she dies,
Mount as incense to the skies.

From Gentleman's Magazine