When the Line of Fate only makes its appearance far up in the centre of the palm, in what is called the Plain of Mars, it indicates a hard early life and that the subject must always have a hard fight to gain his ends; but should the Line as... Read more of Rising From The Middle Of The Palm at Palm Readings.orgInformational Site Network Informational
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Smoking Poems

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

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

Tobacco.
Let poets rhyme of what they will, Youth, Beauty, Love...

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

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

The True Leucothoe.
Let others praise the god of wine, Or Venus, love, a...

Pipes And Beer.
Before I was famous I used to sit In a dull old unde...

My Three Loves.
When Life was all a summer day, And I was under twenty...

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

Tobacco Is An Indian Weed.
Tobacco's but an Indian weed, Grows green at morn, cut...

Chibouque.
At Yeni-Djami, after Rhamadan, The pacha in his pala...

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

In The Ol' Tobacker Patch.
I jess kind o' feel so lonesome that I don't know what to...

Envoi.
Smokers, who doubt or con or pro, And ye who dare to...

With Pipe And Book.
With Pipe and Book at close of day, Oh, what is sweete...

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

In Wreaths Of Smoke.
In wreaths of smoke, blown waywardwise, Faces of o...

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

A Brief Puff Of Smoke.
Great Doctor Parr, the learned Whig, Ne'er deemed the ...

An Old Sweetheart Of Mine.
As one who cons at evening o'er an album all alone, An...



IN ROTTEN ROW.








In Rotten Row a cigarette
I sat and smoked, with no regret
For all the tumult that had been.
The distances were still and green,
And streaked with shadows cool and wet.

Two sweethearts on a bench were set,
Two birds among the boughs were met;
So love and song were heard and seen
In Rotten Row.

A horse or two there was to fret
The soundless sand; but work and debt,
Fair flowers and falling leaves between,
While clocks are chiming clear and keen,
A man may very well forget
In Rotten Row.

W.E. HENLEY.





Next: THE DUET.

Previous: CHIBOUQUE.



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