Once upon a time there dwelt near a large wood a poor wood-cutter, with his wife and two children by his former marriage, a little boy called Hansel and a girl named Gretel. He had little enough to eat; and once, when there was a great fam... Read more of Hansel And Gretel at Children Stories.caInformational Site Network Informational
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Smoking Poems

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

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

My Pipe.
When love grows cool, thy fire still warms me; When fr...

On A Tobacco Jar.
Three hundred years ago or soe, One worthy knight an...

Smoke Is The Food Of Lovers.
When Cupid open'd shop, the trade he chose Was just th...

The Happy Smoking-ground.
When that last pipe is smoked at last And pouch and ...

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

The Pipe You Make Yourself.
There's clay pipes an' briar pipes an' meerschaum pipes a...

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

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

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

Cannon Song.
And it has turned since you and I Set out to face th...

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

If I Were King.
If I were king, my pipe should be premier. The skies o...

Effusion By A Cigar Smoker.
Warriors! who from the cannon's mouth blow fire, ...

Titlepage Dedication.
"Let those smoke now who never smoked before, And those ...

Seasonable Sweets.

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

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

The Betrothed.


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!



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