This poem is obviously related to the above song, but I can't say who copied from whom. They were published in the same year. The text apparently comes from an anonymous source:

Found in The Literary Miscellany for English Readers Abroad and at Home (Nuremberg: Frederic Campe, and London: Williams & Norgate, 1848), page 204:


A WIFE'S COMPLAINT OF HER SMOKING HUSBAND.

He sits in his chair from morn till night
Smoke! Smoke! Smoke!
At early morn he calls for a light,
He takes his cigar, and with all his might
He puffs and puffs; for his only delight
Is Smoke! Smoke! Smoke!

And he takes to another when that is out,
Till Smoke! Smoke! Smoke!
In such dense clouds around him float,
If you saw him, indeed you would think that his throat
Was rather the funnel of some steam boat,
Such Smoke! Smoke! Smoke!

He sits silent all day in his odious fog,
Smoke! Smoke! Smoke!
I tell him it makes him as dull as a clod,
As a husband he'd be as well under the sod
But his only reply is—a puff, and a nod,
And Smoke! Smoke! Smoke!

The house all over from end to end
Is Smoke! Smoke! Smoke!
In whatever room my way I bend,
If I take up his clothes to patch or mend,
Ungrateful odours will ever ascend
Of Smoke! Smoke! Smoke!

At home or abroad, or far or near,
'Tis Smoke! Smoke! Smoke!
Every day in the week, every day in the year—
He'll never abandon the habit—that's clear—
And his days will certainly end, I fear,
In Smoke! Smoke! Smoke!

Young ladies, be warn'd by my fate!—and take heed
Ne'er to wed with a fellow who uses the weed;
Far better that husbands you ever should lack, O!
Than marry a man what smokes tobacco!