The office telephone was out of order. An employee of the company was sent to make repairs. After a period of labor, he suggested to the gentleman occupying the office the calling up of some one over the wire in order to test the working of the... Read more of Recognition at Free Jokes.caInformational Site Network Informational
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Smoking Poems

Acrostic.
To thee, blest weed, whose sovereign wiles, O'er cankere...

My Cigarette.
Ma pauvre petite, My little sweet, Why do you cry...

Ashes.
Wrapped in a sadly tattered gown, Alone I puff my brie...

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

Sublime Tobacco.
But here the herald of the self-same mouth Came breath...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Titlepage Dedication.
"Let those smoke now who never smoked before, And those ...

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

My After-dinner Cloud.
Some sombre evening, when I sit And feed in solitude...

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

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

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

Old Pipe Of Mine.
Companion of my lonely hours, Full many a time 'twix...



SMOKING AWAY.








Floating away like the fountains' spray,
Or the snow-white plume of a maiden,
The smoke-wreaths rise to the starlit skies
With blissful fragrance laden.

_Chorus._ Then smoke away till a golden ray
Lights up the dawn of the morrow,
For a cheerful cigar, like a shield, will bar,
The blows of care and sorrow.

The leaf burns bright, like the gems of light
That flash in the braids of Beauty;
It nerves each heart for the hero's part
On the battle-plain of duty.

In the thoughtful gloom of his darkened room,
Sits the child of song and story,
But his heart is light, for his pipe burns bright,
And his dreams are all of glory.

By the blazing fire sits the gray-haired sire,
And infant arras surround him;
And he smiles on all in that quaint old hall,
While the smoke-curls float around him.

In the forest grand of our native land,
When the savage conflict ended,
The "pipe of peace" brought a sweet release
From toil and terror blended.

The dark-eyed train of the maids of Spain
'Neath their arbor shades trip lightly,
And a gleaming cigar, like a new-born star,
In the clasp of their lips burns brightly

It warms the soul like the blushing bowl,
With its rose-red burden streaming,
And drowns it in bliss, like the first warm kiss
From the lips with love-buds teeming.

FRANCIS MILES FINCH.





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