A hundred years or more after the time of Alfred the Great there was a king of England named Ca-nute. King Canute was a Dane; but the Danes were not so fierce and cruel then as they had been when they were at war with King Alfred. The grea... Read more of KING CANUTE ON THE SEASHORE at Stories Poetry.comInformational Site Network Informational
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Smoking Poems

Geordie To His Tobacco-pipe.
Good pipe, old friend, old black and colored friend, W...

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

She.
The hateful man! 'Twould vex a saint! Around my pretty...

A Farewell To Tobacco.
May the Babylonish curse Straight confound my stammeri...

Smoke Is The Food Of Lovers.
When Cupid open'd shop, the trade he chose Was just th...

Envoi.
Smokers, who doubt or con or pro, And ye who dare to...

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

The Pipe You Make Yourself.
There's clay pipes an' briar pipes an' meerschaum pipes a...

A Pot, And A Pipe Of Tobacco.
Some praise taking snuff; And 'tis pleasant en...

Invocation To Tobacco.
Weed of the strange flower, weed of the earth, Killer ...

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

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

On Receipt Of A Rare Pipe.
I lifted off the lid with anxious care, Removed the ...

An Ode Of Thanks For Certain Cigars.
_TO CHARLES ELIOT NORTON._ Luck, my dear Norton, still...

Tobacco.
The Indian weed, withered quite, Green at noon, cut do...

The Patriotic Smoker's Lament.
Tell me, shade of Walter Raleigh, Briton of the true...

Ashes.
Wrapped in a sadly tattered gown, Alone I puff my brie...

To My Cigar.
Yes, social friend, I love thee well, In learned doc...

The Smoker's Calendar.
When January's cold appears, A glowing pipe my spirit ...

The Dreamer's Pipe.
Meerschaum, thing with amber tip, Clutched between the...



A GOOD CIGAR.








Oh, 'tis well and enough,
A whiff or a puff
From the heart of a pipe to get;
And a dainty maid
Or a budding blade
May toy with the cigarette;
But a man, when the time
Of a glorious prime
Dawns forth like a morning star,
Wants the dark-brown bloom
And the sweet perfume
That go with a good cigar.

To lazily float
In a painted boat
On a shimmering morning sea,
Or to flirt with a maid
In the afternoon shade
Seems good enough sport to be;
But the evening hour,
With its subtle power,
Is sweeter and better far,
If joined to the joy,
Devoid of alloy,
That lurks in a good cigar.

When a blanket wet
Is solidly set
O'er hopes prematurely grown;
When ambition is tame,
And energy lame,
And the bloom from the fruit is blown;
When to dance and to dine
With women and wine
Past poverty pleasures are,--
A man's not bereft
Of all peace, if there's left
The joy of a good cigar.

NORRIS BULL.




A glass is good, and a lass is good,
And a pipe to smoke in cold weather;
The world is good, and the people are good,
And we're all good fellows together.

JOHN O'KEEFE: _Sprigs of Laurel_, Act ii. sc. i.





Next: MY FRIENDLY PIPE.

Previous: TO A PIPE OF TOBACCO.



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