Once, while Jesus was journeying about, He passed near a town where a man named Jairus lived. This man was a ruler in the synagogue, and he had just one little daughter about twelve years of age. At the time that Jesus was there the little ... Read more of THE STORY OF JAIRUS'S DAUGHTER at Children Stories.caInformational Site Network Informational
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Smoking Poems

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

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

Edifying Reflections Of A Tobacco-smoker.
_SET TO MUSIC BY JOHANN SEBASTIAN BACH. AUTHOR UNKNOWN. TRANS...

Confession Of A Cigar Smoker.
I owe to smoking, more or less, Through life the whole...

The Old Clay Pipe.
There's a lot of solid comfort In an old clay pipe, ...

"keats Took Snuff."
"Keats took snuff.... It has been established by the ...

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

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

On Receipt Of A Rare Pipe.
I lifted off the lid with anxious care, Removed the ...

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

My Three Loves.
When Life was all a summer day, And I was under twenty...

The Pipe Critic.
Say, pipe, let's talk of love; Canst aid me?...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A Symphony In Smoke.
A pretty, piquant, pouting pet, Who likes to muse and ...



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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