What is called the Line of Marriage is that mark or marks, as the case may be, found on the side of the Mount under the fourth finger. I will first proceed to give all the details possible about these lines, and then call my reader's attentio... Read more of Signs Relating To Marriage at Palm Readings.orgInformational Site Network Informational
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Smoking Poems

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

To C.f. Bradford.
_ON THE GIFT OF A MEERSCHAUM PIPE._ The pipe came safe...

Pernicious Weed!
The pipe, with solemn interposing puff, Makes half a s...

The Scent Of A Good Cigar.
What is it comes through the deepening dusk,-- Somethi...

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

A Song Without A Name.
AIR: "_THE VICAR OF BRAY_." 'Twas in Queen Bess's gold...

Ad Nicotina.
"_A CONSTRAINED HYPERBOLE._" Let others sing the prais...

The Pipe Critic.
Say, pipe, let's talk of love; Canst aid me?...

A Bachelor's Views.
A pipe, a book, A cosy nook, A fire,--at least ...

Too Great A Sacrifice.
The maid, as by the papers doth appear, Whom fifty tho...

Ode To Tobacco.
Come then, Tobacco, new-found friend, Come, and thy ...

Smoking Spiritualized.
The following old poem was long ascribed, on apparently...

To See Her Pipe Awry.
Betty bouncer kept a stall At the corner of a street...

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

The Old Clay Pipe.
There's a lot of solid comfort In an old clay pipe, ...

The Lost Lotus.
'Tis said that in the sun-embroidered East, There dw...

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

Meerschaum.
Come to me, O my meerschaum, For the vile street organ...

Effusion By A Cigar Smoker.
Warriors! who from the cannon's mouth blow fire, ...

Epitaph
_ON A YOUNG LADY WHO DESIRED THAT TOBACCO MIGHT BE PLANTED OV...



A POET'S PIPE.








_FROM THE FRENCH OF CHARLES BAUDELAIRE._


A poet's pipe am I,
And my Abyssinian tint
Is an unmistakable hint
That he lays me not often by.
When his soul is with grief o'erworn
I smoke like the cottage where
They are cooking the evening fare
For the laborer's return.

I enfold and cradle his soul
In the vapors moving and blue
That mount from my fiery mouth;
And there is power in my bowl
To charm his spirit and soothe,
And heal his weariness too.

RICHARD HERNE SHEPHERD.





Next: MY CIGAR.

Previous: WITH PIPE AND BOOK.



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