'It is gold, it is gold!' they cried. They drove on through a dark wood, where the chariot lighted up the way and blinded the robbers by its glare; it was more than they could bear. 'It is gold, it is gold!' they cried, and darting fo... Read more of THE LITTLE ROBBER GIRL at Children Stories.caInformational Site Network Informational
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Smoking Poems

My Cigar.
In spite of my physician, who is, _entre nous_, a fogy, ...

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

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

The Patriotic Smoker's Lament.
Tell me, shade of Walter Raleigh, Briton of the true...

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

An Old Sweetheart Of Mine.
As one who cons at evening o'er an album all alone, An...

To See Her Pipe Awry.
Betty bouncer kept a stall At the corner of a street...

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

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

A Song Without A Name.
AIR: "_THE VICAR OF BRAY_." 'Twas in Queen Bess's gold...

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

Her Brother's Cigarette.
Like raven's wings her locks of jet, Her soft eyes tou...

Envoi.
Smokers, who doubt or con or pro, And ye who dare to...

'twas Off The Blue Canaries.
'Twas off the blue Canary isles, A glorious summer d...

Confession Of A Cigar Smoker.
I owe to smoking, more or less, Through life the whole...

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

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

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

Smoking Away.
Floating away like the fountains' spray, Or the snow...

The Farmer's Pipe.
Make a picture, dreamy smoke, In my still and cosey ...



PERNICIOUS WEED!








The pipe, with solemn interposing puff,
Makes half a sentence at a time enough;
The dozing sages drop the drowsy strain,
Then pause and puff, and speak, and pause again.
Such often, like the tube they so admire,
Important triflers! have more smoke than fire.
Pernicious weed! whose scent the fair annoys,
Unfriendly to society's chief joys,
Thy worst effect is banishing for hours
The sex whose presence civilizes ours.

WILLIAM COWPER.





Next: TWO OTHER HEARTS.

Previous: THE OLD CLAY PIPE.



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