To dream of seeing roses blooming and fragrant, denotes that somejoyful occasion is nearing, and you will possess the faithful loveof your sweetheart.For a young woman to dream of gathering roses, shows she will soonhave an offer of marriage, which w... Read more of Roses at My Dreams.caInformational Site Network Informational
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Smoking Poems

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

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

Song Of The Smoke-wreaths.
_SUNG TO THE SMOKERS._ Not like clouds that cap the mo...

In Rotten Row.
In Rotten Row a cigarette I sat and smoked, with no re...

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

Smoking Song.
With grateful twirl our smoke-wreaths curl, As mist ...

To C.f. Bradford.
_ON THE GIFT OF A MEERSCHAUM PIPE._ The pipe came safe...

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

Ad Nicotina.
"_A CONSTRAINED HYPERBOLE._" Let others sing the prais...

Henry Fielding.
Friend of my youth, companion of my later days. Wh...

Another Match.
_AFTER A.C. SWINBURNE._ If love were dhudeen olden, ...

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

Tobacco.
Let poets rhyme of what they will, Youth, Beauty, Love...

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

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

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

A Loss.
How hard a thing it is to part From those we love an...

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

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

Pernicious Weed!
The pipe, with solemn interposing puff, Makes half a s...



SHE.








The hateful man! 'Twould vex a saint!
Around my pretty, cherished book,
The odor vile, the noisome taint
Of horrid, stale tobacco-smoke
Yet lingers!
The hateful man, my book to spoil!
Patrick, the tongs--lest I should soil
My fingers!

This lovely rose, these lilies frail,
These violets he has sent to me
The odor of his pipe exhale!
Am I to blame that I should be
Enraged?
Tell Mr. Simpson every time
He calls upon me, Patrick, I'm
Engaged!

ARTHUR LOVELL.





Next: TO THE REV. MR. NEWTON.

Previous: A WARNING.



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