Sometime after Sidney died, his widow, Tillie, was finally able to speak about what a thoughtful and wonderful man her late husband had been. "Sidney thought of everything," she told them. "Just before he died, Sidney called me to his bedside. He... Read more of Funeral arrangements at Free Jokes.caInformational Site Network Informational
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Smoking Poems

Her Brother's Cigarette.
Like raven's wings her locks of jet, Her soft eyes tou...

The Discovery Of Tobacco.
_A SAILOR'S VERSION_. They were three jolly sailors bo...

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

In Favor Of Tobacco.
Much victuals serves for gluttony To fatten men like s...

Song Of The Smoke-wreaths.
_SUNG TO THE SMOKERS._ Not like clouds that cap the mo...

The Betrothed.
"_YOU MUST CHOOSE BETWEEN ME AND YOUR CIGAR._" Open the ...

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

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

Cigars And Beer.
Here With my beer I sit, While g...

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

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

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

Knickerbocker.
Shade of Herrick, Muse of Locker, Help me sing of Knic...

An Encomium On Tobacco.
Thrice happy isles that stole the world's delight, And...

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

A Loss.
How hard a thing it is to part From those we love an...

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

The Latest Convert.
I've been in love some scores of times, With Amy, Ne...

In Rotten Row.
In Rotten Row a cigarette I sat and smoked, with no re...

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



A WARNING.








HE.

I loathe all books. I hate to see
The world and men through others' eyes;
My own are good enough for me.
These scribbling fellows I despise;
They bore me.
I used to try to read a bit,
But, when I did, a sleepy fit
Came o'er me.

Yet here I sit with pensive look,
Filling my pipe with fragrant loads,
Gazing in rapture at a book!--
A free translation of the Odes
Of Horace.
'Tis owned by sweet Elizabeth,
And breathes a subtle, fragrant breath
Of orris.

I longed for something that was hers
To cheer me when I'm feeling low;
I saw this book of paltry verse,
And asked to take it home--and so
She lent it.
I love her deep and tenderly,
Yet dare not tell my love, lest she
Resent it.

I'll learn to quote a stanza here,
A couplet there. I'm very sure
'Twould aid my suit could I appear
_Au fait_ in books and literature.
I'll do it!
This jingle I can quickly learn;
Then, hid in roses, I'll return
Her poet!





Next: SHE.

Previous: MY MEERSCHAUM PIPE.



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