David was now King. He had great riches and honour, and a palace had been built for him. He had brought the ark from Kirjath-jearim, and placed it in the tabernacle prepared for it at Jerusalem, and he now reigned over all the people of Israe... Read more of NATHAN REPROVING THE KING. at Children Stories.caInformational Site Network Informational
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Smoking Poems

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

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

Smoking Spiritualized.
The following old poem was long ascribed, on apparently...

The Ballade Of Tobacco.
When verdant youth sees life afar, And first sets ou...

The Ballad Of The Pipe.
Oh, give me but Virginia's weed, An earthen bowl, a st...

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

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

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

In Favor Of Tobacco.
Much victuals serves for gluttony To fatten men like s...

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

Song Of The Smoke-wreaths.
_SUNG TO THE SMOKERS._ Not like clouds that cap the mo...

Wrongfellow.
I like cigars Beneath the stars, Upon the water...

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

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

To My Cigar.
The warmth of thy glow, Well-lighted cigar, Makes h...

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

Two Other Hearts.
Full tender beamed the light of love down from his manl...

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

A Warning.
HE. I loathe all books. I hate to see The world a...

Too Great A Sacrifice.
The maid, as by the papers doth appear, Whom fifty tho...



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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