What is called the Line of Marriage is that mark or marks, as the case may be, found on the side of the Mount under the fourth finger. I will first proceed to give all the details possible about these lines, and then call my reader's attentio... Read more of Signs Relating To Marriage at Palm Readings.orgInformational Site Network Informational
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Smoking Poems

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

Smoking Song.
With grateful twirl our smoke-wreaths curl, As mist ...

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

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

Meerschaum.
Come to me, O my meerschaum, For the vile street organ...

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

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

The Lost Lotus.
'Tis said that in the sun-embroidered East, There dw...

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

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

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

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

The Discovery Of Tobacco.
_A SAILOR'S VERSION_. They were three jolly sailors bo...

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

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

A Song Without A Name.
AIR: "_THE VICAR OF BRAY_." 'Twas in Queen Bess's gold...

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

To The Tobacco Pipe.
Dear piece of fascinating clay! 'Tis thine to smooth l...

Cigarette Rings.
How it blows! How it rains! I'll not turn out to-night; ...

My Pipe And I.
There may be comrades in this world, As stanch and t...



INGIN SUMMER.








Jest about the time when Fall
Gits to rattlin' in the trees,
An' the man thet knows it all,
'Spicions frost in every breeze,
When a person tells hisse'f
Thet the leaves look mighty thin,
Then thar blows a meller breaf!
Ingin summer's hyere agin.

Kind-uh smoky-lookin' blues
Spins acrost the mountain-side,
An' the heavy mornin' dews
Greens the grass up far an' wide,
Natur' raly 'pears as ef
She wuz layin' off a day,--
Sort-uh drorin in her breaf
'Fore she freezes up to stay.

Nary lick o' work I strike,
'Long about this time of year!
I'm a sort-uh slowly like,
Right when Ingin summer's here.
Wife and boys kin do the work;
But a man with natchel wit,
Like I got, kin 'ford to shirk,
Ef he has a turn for it.

Time when grapes set in to ripe,
All I ast off any man
Is a common co'n-cob pipe
With terbacker to my han';
Then jest loose me whar the air
Simmers 'crost me, wahm an' free!
Promised lands ull find me thar;
Wings ull fahly sprout on me!

I'm a loungin' 'round on thrones,
Bossin' worlds f'om shore to shore,
When I stretch my marrer-bones
Jest outside the cabin door!
An' the sunshine peepin' down
On my old head, bald an' gray,
'Pears right like the gilted crown,
I expect to w'ar some day.

EVA WILDER MCGLASSON.





Next: EDIFYING REFLECTIONS OF A TOBACCO-SMOKER.

Previous: TO SEE HER PIPE AWRY.



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