Negotiations between union members and their employer were at an impasse. The union denied that their workers were flagrantly abusing their contract's sick-leave provisions. One morning at the bargaining table, the company's chief negotiator held... Read more of Calling in sick at Free Jokes.caInformational Site Network Informational
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Smoking Poems

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

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

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

It May Be Weeds.
It may be weeds I've gathered too; But even weeds...

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

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

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

Latakia.
I. When all the panes are hung with frost, Wild wiz...

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

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

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

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

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

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

A Bachelor's Soliloquy.
I sit all alone with my pipe by the fire, I ne'er kn...

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

My Little Brown Pipe.
I have a little comforter, I carry in my pocket: ...

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

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

Smoke And Chess.
We were sitting at chess as the sun went down; And he,...



MY PIPE AND I.








There may be comrades in this world,
As stanch and true as steel.
There are: and by their friendships firm
Is life made only real.
But, after all, of all these hearts
That close with mine entwine,
None lie so near, nor seem so dear
As this old pipe of mine.

My silent friend--whose voice is held
Fast for my ear alone--
Stays with me always, well content,
With Darby to be Joan.
No fickleness disturbs our lot;
No jars its peace to smother;
Ah, no; my faithful pipe and I
Have wooed and won--each other.

On clouds of curling incense sweet,
We go--my pipe and I--
To lands far off, where skies stay blue
Through all the years that fly.
And nights and days, with rosy dreams
Teems bright--an endless throng
That passing leave, in echoing wake,
Soft murmurings of song.

Does this dream fade? Another comes
To fill its place and more.
In castles silvern roam we now,
They're ours! All! All are ours!
What'er the wreathing rings enfold
Drops shimmering golden showers!

No sordid cost our steps can stay,
We travel free as air.
Our wings are fancies, incense-borne,
That feather-light upbear.
Begone! ye powers of steam and flood.
Thy roads creep far too slow;
We need thee not. My pipe and I
Swifter than Time must go.

Why, what is this? The pipe gone out?
Well, well, the fire's out, too!
The dreams are gone--we're poor once more;
Life's pain begins anew.
'Tis time for sleep, my faithful pipe,
But may thy dreamings be,
Through slumbering hours hued as bright
As those thou gav'st to me!

ELTON J. BUCKLEY.





Next: SIC TRANSIT.

Previous: A WINTER EVENING HYMN TO MY FIRE.



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