All the good knights were leaving for the Crusades. One knight told his best friend - "My bride is without doubt one of the most beautiful women in the world. It would be a terrible waste if no man could have her. Therefore, as my best and most t... Read more of The chastity belt at Free Jokes.caInformational Site Network Informational
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Smoking Poems

Knickerbocker.
Shade of Herrick, Muse of Locker, Help me sing of Knic...

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

To My Cigar.
Yes, social friend, I love thee well, In learned doc...

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

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

A Pot, And A Pipe Of Tobacco.
Some praise taking snuff; And 'tis pleasant en...

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

Seasonable Sweets.
"_DON'T BE FLOWERY, JACOB._"--CHARLES DICKENS. When th...

The Scent Of A Good Cigar.
What is it comes through the deepening dusk,-- Somethi...

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

The Lost Lotus.
'Tis said that in the sun-embroidered East, There dw...

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

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

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

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

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

Ode To Tobacco.
Come then, Tobacco, new-found friend, Come, and thy ...

In Wreaths Of Smoke.
In wreaths of smoke, blown waywardwise, Faces of o...

Maecenas Bids His Friend To Dine.
I beg you come to-night and dine. A welcome waits you, a...

Sic Transit.
Just a note that I found on my table, By the bills of ...



ODE TO MY PIPE.








O Blessed pipe,
That now I clutch within my gripe,
What joy is in thy smooth, round bowl,
As black as coal!

So sweetly wed
To thy blanched, gradual thread,
Like Desdemona to the Moor,
Thou pleasure's core.

What woman's lip
Could ever give, like thy red tip,
Such unremitting store of bliss,
Or such a kiss?

Oh, let me toy,
Ixion-like, with cloudy joy;
Thy stem with a most gentle slant
I eye askant!

Unseen, unheard,
Thy dreamy nectar is transferred,
The while serenity astride
Thy neck doth ride.

A burly cloud
Doth now thy outward beauties shroud:
And now a film doth upward creep,
Cuddling the cheek.

And now a ring,
A mimic silver quoit, takes wing;
Another and another mount on high,
Then spread and die.

They say in story
That good men have a crown of glory;
O beautiful and good, behold
The crowns unfold!

How did they live?
What pleasure could the Old World give
That ancient miserable lot
When thou wert not?

Oh, woe betide!
My oldest, dearest friend hath died,--
Died in my hand quite unaware,
Oh, Baccy rare!

ANDREW WYNTER.





Next: A PIPE OF TOBACCO.

Previous: THE LAST PIPE.



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