"He hath showed thee, O man, what is good; and what doth the Lord require of thee, but to do justly, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God." Micah 6:8. The life of Enoch is descriptive of the Christian's life, and it is said t... Read more of THE CHRISTIAN'S WALK A WALK WITH GOD. at Difficult.caInformational Site Network Informational
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Smoking Poems

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

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

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

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

It May Be Weeds.
It may be weeds I've gathered too; But even weeds...

To The Rev. Mr. Newton.
Says the Pipe to the Snuff-box, "I can't understand ...

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

My Cigarette.
My cigarette! The amulet That charms afar unrest and...

A Valentine.
What's my love's name? Guess her name. Nina? No....

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

The Happy Smoking-ground.
When that last pipe is smoked at last And pouch and ...

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

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

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

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

Inscription For A Tobacco Jar.
Keep me at hand; and as my fumes arise, You'll find _a...

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



ANOTHER MATCH.








_AFTER A.C. SWINBURNE._


If love were dhudeen olden,
And I were like the weed,
Oh! we would live together
And love the jolly weather,
And bask in sunshine golden,
Rare pals of choicest breed;
If love were dhudeen olden,
And I were like the weed.

If you were oil essential,
And I were nicotine,
We'd hatch up wicked treason,
And spoil each smoker's reason,
Till he grew penitential,
And turned a bilious green;
If you were oil essential,
And I were nicotine.

If you were snuff, my darling,
And I, your love, the box.
We'd live and sneeze together,
Shut out from all the weather,
And anti-snuffers snarling,
In neckties orthodox;
If you were snuff, my darling,
And I, your love, the box.

If you were the aroma,
And I were simply smoke,
We'd skyward fly together,
As light as any feather;
And flying high as Homer,
His gray old ghost we'd choke;
If you were the aroma,
And I were simply smoke.

From _Cope's Tobacco Plant_.





Next: IN WREATHS OF SMOKE.

Previous: ACROSTIC.



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