1438. It is supposed that a broom placed behind the door will keep off witches. Bruynswick, N.Y. 1439. To burn the stub of a broom or break a sugar-bowl, means a quarrel. Westport, Mass. 1440. A spark seen on a candle ... Read more of Domestic Life at Superstitions.caInformational Site Network Informational
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Smoking Poems

My Friendly Pipe.
Let sybarites still dream delights While smoking cig...

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

The Betrothed.
"_YOU MUST CHOOSE BETWEEN ME AND YOUR CIGAR._" Open the ...

Cannon Song.
And it has turned since you and I Set out to face th...

The Duet.
I was smoking a cigarette; Maud, my wife, and the te...

She.
The hateful man! 'Twould vex a saint! Around my pretty...

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

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

The Dreamer's Pipe.
Meerschaum, thing with amber tip, Clutched between the...

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

Tobacco.
The Indian weed, withered quite, Green at noon, cut do...

A Good Cigar.
Oh, 'tis well and enough, A whiff or a puff From th...

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

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

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

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

My Cigarette.
_WORDS AND MUSIC BY RICHARD BARNARD_. To my sweet ciga...

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

A Brief Puff Of Smoke.
Great Doctor Parr, the learned Whig, Ne'er deemed the ...

Geordie To His Tobacco-pipe.
Good pipe, old friend, old black and colored friend, W...



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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