To dream that you commit adultery, foretells that you will bearrainged{sic} for some illegal action. If a woman has this dream,she will fail to hold her husband's affections, letting hertemper and spite overwhelm her at the least provocation.If i... Read more of Adultery at My Dreams.caInformational Site Network Informational
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Smoking Poems

The Discovery Of Tobacco.
'Twas in the days of good Queen Bess,-- Or p'raps a ...

Maecenas Bids His Friend To Dine.
I beg you come to-night and dine. A welcome waits you, a...

My Friendly Pipe.
Let sybarites still dream delights While smoking cig...

He Respondeth.
SHE. You still persist in using, I observe with g...

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

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...

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

How It Once Was.
Right stout and strong the worthy burghers stood, ...

The Patriotic Smoker's Lament.
Tell me, shade of Walter Raleigh, Briton of the true...

Smoke And Chess.
We were sitting at chess as the sun went down; And he,...

My Cigarette.
Ma pauvre petite, My little sweet, Why do you cry...

Effusion By A Cigar Smoker.
Warriors! who from the cannon's mouth blow fire, ...

To My Meerschaum.
There's a charm in the sun-crested hills, In the qui...

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

On A Broken Pipe.
Neglected now it lies, a cold clay form, So late with ...

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

My After-dinner Cloud.
Some sombre evening, when I sit And feed in solitude...

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

A Winter Evening Hymn To My Fire.
Nicotia, dearer to the Muse Than all the grape's bewil...



IN THE OL' TOBACKER PATCH.








I jess kind o' feel so lonesome that I don't know what to do,
When I think about them days we used to spend
A hoein' out tobacker in th' clearin'--me an' you--
An' a wishin' that the day was at an end.
For the dewdrops was a sparklin' on the beeches' tender leaves
As we started out a workin' in the morn;
An' th' noonday sun was sendin' down a shower of burnin' sheaves
When we heard the welcome-soundin' dinner-horn.
An' th' shadders round us gathered in a sort of ghostly batch,
'Fore we started home from workin' in that ol' tobacker patch.

I'm a feelin' mighty lonesome, as I look aroun' to-day,
For I see th' change that's taken place since then.
All th' hills is brown and faded, for th' woods is cleared away;
You an' me has changed from ragged boys to men;
You are livin' in th' city that we ust to dream about;
I am still a dwellin' here upon the place,
But my form is bent an' feeble, which was once so straight and
stout,
An' there's most a thousand wrinkles on my face.
You have made a mint of money; I, perhaps have been your match,
But we both enjoyed life better in that ol' tobacker patch.

S.Q. LAPIUS.





Next: MAECENAS BIDS HIS FRIEND TO DINE.

Previous: HER BROTHER'S CIGARETTE.



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