A football coach walked into the locker room before a big game, looked over to his star player and said, "I'm not supposed to let you play since you failed math, but we really need you in there. So, what I have to do is ask you a math question, and i... Read more of Football player test at Free Jokes.caInformational Site Network Informational
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Smoking Poems

To My Meerschaum.
There's a charm in the sun-crested hills, In the qui...

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

A Pipe Of Tobacco.
Let the learned talk of books, The glutton...

A Warning.
HE. I loathe all books. I hate to see The world a...

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

Smoking Away.
Floating away like the fountains' spray, Or the snow...

Ode To My Pipe.
O Blessed pipe, That now I clutch within my gripe, ...

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

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

My Cigarette.
Ma pauvre petite, My little sweet, Why do you cry...

My Little Brown Pipe.
I have a little comforter, I carry in my pocket: ...

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

Ingin Summer.
Jest about the time when Fall Gits to rattlin' in th...

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

Motto For A Tobacco Jar.
Come! don't refuse sweet Nicotina's aid, But woo the...

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

Henry Fielding.
Friend of my youth, companion of my later days. Wh...

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

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

Smoking Song.
With grateful twirl our smoke-wreaths curl, As mist ...



A SYMPHONY IN SMOKE.








A pretty, piquant, pouting pet,
Who likes to muse and take her ease,
She loves to smoke a cigarette;

To dream in silken hammockette,
And sing and swing beneath the trees,
A pretty, piquant, pouting pet.

Her Christian name is Violet;
Her eyes are blue as summer skies;
She loves to smoke a cigarette.

As calm as babe in bassinette,
She swingeth in the summer breeze,
A pretty, piquant, pouting pet.

She ponders o'er a novelette;
Her parasol is Japanese;
She loves to smoke a cigarette.

She loves a fume without a fret;
Her frills are white, her frock _cerise_,--
A pretty, pouting, piquant pet.

She almost goes to sleep, and yet,
Half-lulled by booming honey-bees,
She loves to smoke a cigarette.

A winsome, clever, cool coquette,
Who flouts all Grundian decrees,--
pretty, pouting, piquant pet,
That loves to smoke a cigarette.

_Harper's Bazaar_.





Next: IT MAY BE WEEDS.

Previous: A BRIEF PUFF OF SMOKE.



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