Joseph Jacobs There was once upon a time a poor widow who had an only son named Jack, and a cow named Milky-white. And all they had to live on was the milk the cow gave every morning, which they carried to the market and sold. But one morn... Read more of JACK AND THE BEANSTALK at Children Stories.caInformational Site Network Informational
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Smoking Poems

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

To See Her Pipe Awry.
Betty bouncer kept a stall At the corner of a street...

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

My Meerschaums.
Long pipes and short ones, straight and curved, High...

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

Sublime Tobacco.
But here the herald of the self-same mouth Came breath...

Epitaph
_ON A YOUNG LADY WHO DESIRED THAT TOBACCO MIGHT BE PLANTED OV...

The Last Pipe.
When head is sick and brain doth swim, And heavy hangs...

Cannon Song.
Come, seniors, come, and fill your pipes, Your richest...

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

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

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

The Betrothed.
"_YOU MUST CHOOSE BETWEEN ME AND YOUR CIGAR._" Open the ...

The Smoke Traveller.
When I puff my cigarette, Straight I see a Spanish g...

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

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

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

Inscription For A Tobacco Jar.
Keep me at hand; and as my fumes arise, You'll find _a...

The Smoker's Calendar.
When January's cold appears, A glowing pipe my spirit ...

"a Free Puff."
Do you remember when first we met? I was turning twent...



MY MEERSCHAUM PIPE.








Old meerschaum pipe, I'll fondly wipe
Thy scarred and blackened form,
For thou to me wilt ever be--
Whate'er betides the storm--
A casket filled with memories
Of life's Auroral morn.

Thou once wert fair like ivory rare;
Spotless as lily white;
Thy curving lines, like tendril'd vines,
Were pleasing to the sight,
And in thine ample bowl there lurked
A promise of delight.

Like incense flung from censer swung
Before some sculptured shrine,
To float along with prayer and song
To realms of bliss divine,--
Ascend thy fragrant wreaths of smoke
And with my thoughts entwine.

Old pipe, old friend, o'er thee doth bend
The rainbow hues of life,
While sorrows roll across my soul,
And peace is turned to strife,
And Faith drifts o'er a sea of doubt
With desolation rife.

Alas, that man or pipe e'er can
Wax old or know decay;
Alas, that heart from heart must part,
Or Love can lose its sway.
And death in life should cast its pall
Athwart the troubled way.

Tho' love be cross'd, and friends are lost,
And severed every tie;
Tho' hopes are dead and joys have fled,
And darkened is the sky;
We yet can warm each other's hearts,
Old meerschaum pipe and I.

JOHNSON M. MUNDY.





Next: A WARNING.

Previous: "A FREE PUFF."



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