A Japanese Story Hashnu the Stonecutter sat beside the highway cutting stone. It was hard work, and the sun shone hot upon him. "Ah me!" said Hashnu, "if one only did not have to work all day. I would that I could sit and rest, and not h... Read more of Hashnu The Stonecutter at Children Stories.caInformational Site Network Informational
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Smoking Poems

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

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

A Valentine.
What's my love's name? Guess her name. Nina? No....

Virginia Tobacco.
Two maiden dames of sixty-two Together long had dwel...

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

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

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

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

The Cigar.
Some sigh for this and that, My wishes don't go far;...

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

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

The Duet.
I was smoking a cigarette; Maud, my wife, and the te...

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

The Smoker's Reverie.
(_OCTOBER._) I'm sitting at dusk 'neath the old beeche...

Sic Transit.
Just a note that I found on my table, By the bills of ...

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

Motto For A Tobacco Jar.
Come! don't refuse sweet Nicotina's aid, But woo the...

'twas Off The Blue Canaries.
'Twas off the blue Canary isles, A glorious summer d...

Her Brother's Cigarette.
Like raven's wings her locks of jet, Her soft eyes tou...

Acrostic.
To thee, blest weed, whose sovereign wiles, O'er cankere...



MAECENAS BIDS HIS FRIEND TO DINE.








I beg you come to-night and dine.
A welcome waits you, and sound wine,--
The Roederer chilly to a charm,
As Juno's breath the claret warm,
The sherry of an ancient brand.
No Persian pomp, you understand,--
A soup, a fish, two meats, and then
A salad fit for aldermen
(When aldermen, alas the days!
Were really worth their _mayonnaise_);
A dish of grapes whose clusters won
Their bronze in Carolinian sun;
Next, cheese--for you the Neufchatel,
A bit of Cheshire likes me well;
Cafe au lait or coffee black,
With Kirsch or Kuemmel or cognac
(The German band in Irving Place
By this time purple in the face);
Cigars and pipes. These being through,
Friends shall drop in, a very few--
Shakespeare and Milton, and no more.
When these are guests I bolt the door,
With "Not at home" to any one
Excepting Alfred Tennyson.

ANON.





Next: TO MY MEERSCHAUM.
Previous: IN THE OL' TOBACKER PATCH.




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