Having murdered his brother-in-law, Orrin Brower of Kentucky was a fugitive from justice. From the county jail where he had been confined to await his trial he had escaped by knocking down his jailer with an iron bar, robbing him of his ke... Read more of An Arrest at Scary Stories.caInformational Site Network Informational.ca
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Smoking Poems

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

A Pipe Of Tobacco.
Let the toper regale in his tankard of ale, Or with ...

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

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

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

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

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

Virginia's Kingly Plant.
_BY AN "OLD SALT."_ Oh, muse! grant me the power (I...

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

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

Pernicious Weed!
The pipe, with solemn interposing puff, Makes half a s...

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

Edifying Reflections Of A Tobacco-smoker.
_SET TO MUSIC BY JOHANN SEBASTIAN BACH. AUTHOR UNKNOWN. TRANS...

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

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

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

A Good Cigar.
Oh, 'tis well and enough, A whiff or a puff From th...

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

The Old Clay Pipe.
There's a lot of solid comfort In an old clay pipe, ...

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



IN FAVOR OF TOBACCO.








Much victuals serves for gluttony
To fatten men like swine;
But he's a frugal man indeed
That with a leaf can dine,
And needs no napkin for his hands,
His fingers' ends to wipe,
But keeps his kitchen in a box,
And roast meat in a pipe.

SAMUEL ROWLANDS: _Knave of Clubs_ (1611).





Next: MY CIGARETTE.
Previous: CLOUDS.


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