Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, AN ODE TO A PIPE OF TOBACCO, by ROYALL TYLER


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

AN ODE TO A PIPE OF TOBACCO, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: No - no - by thy bland self I swear
Last Line: And ruin be the order of the day.
Alternate Author Name(s): Old Simon; S.
Subject(s): Della Cruscanism (poetic Style); Smoking; Tobacco; Pipes; Cigars; Cigarettes


Addressed by Della Yankee to Anna Jemima

NO -- No -- by thy bland self I swear,
That when morn darts its infant ray,
When suns regret the parting day,
Thou, lenient solace of dank care,
With balmy lip shalt chase despair.
Friend to the friendless still are thou;
While life's quick pulses warm my heart,
I heave the impassion'd sigh, and vow
That thou and I will never part.
Sooner shall the high orb'd sun
And systems into ruin run --
Sooner the source of day be hurl'd
In splendid splinters o'er the world,
And high wrought ruin pang each heart,
Than thou, extatic tube, depart.
When thy fragrance I inhale,
With contemplation by my side,
And innocence, to thee allied --
How careless thou, in torpid state,
Disdaining all the vulgar great,
Fling'st to the raptur'd passing gale
Thy purple breath -- thy sweets exhale;
And, in the act of bliss,
Thou sigh'st away thy soul;
Plodding mortals think on this,
And spurn indifference to the frigid pole.
Yes, Anna, by thy honied lips,
Whence love's bee its nectar sips;
By the witchery of thy eyes,
By my hot impassion'd sighs,
By my heart strings' trembling chords,
By my faltering, half born words,
When in Fancy's magick grove
Thou gav'st thyself to me and love,
When love run riot in thy arms,
And glutted on thy opening charms,
When I quaff'd thy passion'd sighs,
And drank the glances of thy eyes,
When chasten'd love, with eager zest,
Thy young idea first had prest,
When flaming Etna burnt in thee,
And all Vesuvius rag'd in me,
We then had been two mated doves,
Burnt offerings to the little Loves --
But hope grew damp by Anna's art;
She quench'd the fires
Of young desires
In vestal fountains of her heart:
Yes, Anna, since that blissful time,
When Mima's ermin'd charms were mine,
Till that black day, when deep despair
Shot terrors in the "hurtled air,"
When fiend-like Fortune bid us part,
And tore the life strings of my heart,
Not till that hour, when mercy free,
Shall give me heaven again in thee --
I've never known one mundane good
But with my sweet, assuaging tube,
Since thou, dear maid, art doom'd to know
The luxury of parted woe;
My lips shall press no other lip,
Than its red, pouting, balmy tip --
If it I lose, I'll wandering go,
Where Egypt's spicy rivals grow;
Or if my slender tube be broke,
Draw sighs, as lengthening, as its smoke.
Fast bound in links of fate we'll stray,
Till worlds, and stars, and suns expire
In universal vortex'd fire;
And ruin be the order of the day.





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