TO INCREASE YOUR MAGIC POWERS JUST CHANT (WITH FEELING): I TAKE THE POWER IN MY HANDS FROM AIR AND FIRE WATER AND LAND POWER OF THE ANGELS AND DIVINITY MOVES AND PULSATES THE ENERGY IN ME I BUILD I BIRTH I BRING FORM I RAISE WITH MIGHT AN ENERGY STOR... Read more of Power Chant at White Magic.caInformational Site Network Informational
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Smoking Poems

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

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

To An Old Pipe.
Once your smoothly polished face Nestled lightly in a ...

To A Pipe Of Tobacco.
Come, lovely tube, by friendship blest, Belov'd and ...

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

A Pipe Of Tobacco.
Let the learned talk of books, The glutton...

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

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

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

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

Choosing A Wife By A Pipe Of Tobacco.
Tube, I love thee as my life; By thee I mean to choose...

An Encomium On Tobacco.
Thrice happy isles that stole the world's delight, And...

Pipe And Tobacco.
When my pipe burns bright and clear, The gods I need n...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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



MY MEERSCHAUMS.








Long pipes and short ones, straight and curved,
High carved and plain, dark-hued and creamy,
Slim tubes for cigarettes reserved,
And stout ones for Havanas dreamy.

This cricket, on an amber spear
Impaled, recalls that golden weather
When love and I, too young to fear
Heartburn, smoked cigarettes together.

And even now--too old to take
The little papered shams for flavor--
I light it oft for her sweet sake
Who gave it, with her girlish favor.

And here's the mighty student bowl
Whose tutoring in and after college
Has led me nearer wisdom's goal
Than all I learned of text-book knowledge.

"It taught me?" Ay, to hold my tongue,
To keep a-light, and yet burn slowly,
To break ill spells around me flung
As with the enchanted whiff of Moly.

This nargileh, whose hue betrays
Perique from soft Louisiana,
In Egypt once beguiled the days
Of Tewfik's dreamy-eyed Sultana.

Speaking of color,--do you know
A maid with eyes as darkly splendid
As are the hues that, rich and slow,
On this Hungarian bowl have blended?

Can artist paint the fiery glints
Of this quaint finger here beside it,
With amber nail,--the lustrous tints,
A thousand Partagas have dyed it?

"And this old silver patched affair?"
Well, sir, that meerschaum has its reasons
For showing marks of time and wear;
For in its smoke through fifty seasons

My grandsire blew his cares away!
And then, when done with life's sojourning,
At seventy-five dropped dead one day,
That pipe between his set teeth burning!

"Killed him?" No doubt! it's apt to kill
In fifty year's incessant using--
Some twenty pipes a day. And still,
On that ripe, well-filled, lifetime musing,

I envy oft so bright a part,--
To live as long as life's a treasure;
To die of--not an aching heart,
But--half a century of pleasure!

Well, well! I'm boring you, no doubt;
How these old memories will undo one--
I see you've let your weed go out;
That's wrong! Here, light yourself a new one!

CHARLES F. LUMMIS.





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