An old man and woman were married for years even though they hated each other. When they had a fight, screams and yelling could be heard deep into the night. A constant statement was heard by the neighbors who feared the man the most... "When I d... Read more of Black Magic at Free Jokes.caInformational Site Network Informational
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Smoking Poems

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

Another Match.
_AFTER A.C. SWINBURNE._ If love were dhudeen olden, ...

The Last Pipe.
When head is sick and brain doth swim, And heavy hangs...

On A Tobacco Jar.
Three hundred years ago or soe, One worthy knight an...

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

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

Clouds.
Mortals say their heart is light When the clouds aroun...

My Meerschaums.
Long pipes and short ones, straight and curved, High...

"keats Took Snuff."
"Keats took snuff.... It has been established by the ...

Sic Transit.
Just a note that I found on my table, By the bills of ...

How It Once Was.
Right stout and strong the worthy burghers stood, ...

Virginia Tobacco.
Two maiden dames of sixty-two Together long had dwel...

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

Confession Of A Cigar Smoker.
I owe to smoking, more or less, Through life the whole...

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

My Pipe.
When love grows cool, thy fire still warms me; When fr...

The Cigar.
Some sigh for this and that, My wishes don't go far;...

A Poet's Pipe.
_FROM THE FRENCH OF CHARLES BAUDELAIRE._ A poet's pipe...

Latakia.
I. When all the panes are hung with frost, Wild wiz...

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



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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