There was once a shepherd-boy who kept his flock at a little distance from the village. Once he thought he would play a trick on the villagers and have some fun at their expense. So he ran toward the village crying out, with all his might,-- ... Read more of THE BOY WHO CRIED "WOLF!" at Children Stories.caInformational Site Network Informational
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Smoking Poems

To A Pipe Of Tobacco.
Come, lovely tube, by friendship blest, Belov'd and ...

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

The Smoker's Calendar.
When January's cold appears, A glowing pipe my spirit ...

A Farewell To Tobacco.
May the Babylonish curse Straight confound my stammeri...

The Farmer's Pipe.
Make a picture, dreamy smoke, In my still and cosey ...

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

Sweet Smoking Pipe.
Sweet smoking pipe; bright glowing stove, Companion ...

My Cigar.
In spite of my physician, who is, _entre nous_, a fogy, ...

Ode To Tobacco.
Thou, who when fears attack Bidst them avaunt, and Bla...

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

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

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

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

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

A Pot, And A Pipe Of Tobacco.
Some praise taking snuff; And 'tis pleasant en...

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

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

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

The Pipe You Make Yourself.
There's clay pipes an' briar pipes an' meerschaum pipes a...

Those Ashes.
Up to the frescoed ceiling The smoke of my cigarette...



EPITAPH








_ON A YOUNG LADY WHO DESIRED THAT TOBACCO MIGHT BE PLANTED OVER HER
GRAVE._


Let no cold marble o'er my body rise--
But only earth above, and sunny skies.
Thus would I lowly lie in peaceful rest,
Nursing the Herb Divine from out my breast.
Green let it grow above this clay of mine,
Deriving strength from strength that I resign.
So in the days to come, when I'm beyond
This fickle life, will come my lovers fond,
And gazing on the plant, their grief restrain
In whispering, "Lo! dear Anna blooms again!"





Next: THE SMOKER'S REVERIE.

Previous: A PIPE OF TOBACCO.



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