Miss C., a lady of excellent sense, religious but not bigoted, lived before her marriage in the house of her uncle D., a celebrated physician, and member of the Institute. Her mother at this time was seriously ill in the country. One night th... Read more of The Deathbed at Scary Stories.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...

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

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

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

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

The Smoker's Reverie.
(_OCTOBER._) I'm sitting at dusk 'neath the old beeche...

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

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

The Latest Convert.
I've been in love some scores of times, With Amy, Ne...

What I Like.
To lie with half-closed eyes, as in a dream, Upon the ...

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

Ingin Summer.
Jest about the time when Fall Gits to rattlin' in th...

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

A Winter Evening Hymn To My Fire.
Nicotia, dearer to the Muse Than all the grape's bewil...

Wrongfellow.
I like cigars Beneath the stars, Upon the water...

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

Ode To Tobacco.
Thou, who when fears attack Bidst them avaunt, and Bla...

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

Meerschaum.
Come to me, O my meerschaum, For the vile street organ...

A Poet's Pipe.
_FROM THE FRENCH OF CHARLES BAUDELAIRE._ A poet's pipe...



OLD PIPE OF MINE.








Companion of my lonely hours,
Full many a time 'twixt night and morn
Thy muse hath roamed through poesy's bowers
Upon thy fragrant pinions borne.
Let others seek the bliss that reigns
In homage paid at beauty's shrine,
We envy not such foolish gains,
In sweet content, old pipe of mine.

Ah! you have been a travelled pipe;
But now, of course, you're getting stale,
Just like myself, and rather ripe;
You've had your fill of cakes and ale,
And half-forgotten memories, too.
And all the pensive thoughts that twine
Around a past that, _entre nous_,
Has pleasant been, old pipe of mine.

Old pipe of mine, for many a year
What boon companions we have been!
With here a smile and there a tear,
How many changes we have seen!
How many hearts have ceased to beat,
How many eyes have ceased to shine,
How many friends will never meet,
Since first we met, old pipe of mine!

Though here and there the road was deep,
And now and then the rain would fall;
We managed every time to keep
A sturdy forehead to them all!
And even when she left my side,
We didn't wait to fret or pine,
Oh, no; we said the world was wide,
And luck would turn, old pipe of mine!





Next: CANNON SONG.

Previous: TO MY MEERSCHAUM.



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