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Light up your pipe again, old chum, and sit awhile with me...

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This poem is often wrongly thought to be by Robert W Service. It is published here to the memory of Hugh Antoine D'Arcy, its rightful father.
An Evening with the Bard of the Yukon, July 18 th 2003 at 20.30pm in the Town-Hall of Lancieux, Brittany.
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Pipe Smoker

Published by Susan on 08/08/2003 (2705 reads)
Because I love the soothing weed...

Because I love the soothing weed
       And am of sober type,
I'd choose me for a friend in need
       A man who smokes a pipe.
A cove who hasn't much to say,
       And spits into the fire,
Puffing like me a pipe of clay,
       Corn-cob or briar.

A chap original of thought,
       With cheery point of view,
Who has of gumption quite a lot,
       And streaks of humour too.
He need not be a whiskered sage,
       With wisdom over-ripe:
Just give me in the old of age
       A pal who smokes a pipe.

A cigarette may make for wit,
       Although I like it not;
A good cigar, I must admit,
       Gives dignity to thought.
But as my glass of grog I sip
       I never, never gripe
If I have for companionship
       A guy who smokes a pipe.

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