A ghost in a haunted house is seldom observed with anything like scientific precision. The spectre in the following narrative could not be photographed, attempts being usually made in a light which required prolonged exposure. Efforts to touc... Read more of The Lady In Black at Scary Stories.caInformational Site Network Informational
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Smoking Poems

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

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

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

The Lost Lotus.
'Tis said that in the sun-embroidered East, There dw...

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

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

A Symphony In Smoke.
A pretty, piquant, pouting pet, Who likes to muse and ...

Edifying Reflections Of A Tobacco-smoker.
_SET TO MUSIC BY JOHANN SEBASTIAN BACH. AUTHOR UNKNOWN. TRANS...

If I Were King.
If I were king, my pipe should be premier. The skies o...

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

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

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

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

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

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

He Respondeth.
SHE. You still persist in using, I observe with g...

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

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

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

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



SMOKING SONG.








With grateful twirl our smoke-wreaths curl,
As mist from the waterfall given,
Or the locks that float round beauty's throat
In the whispering air of even.

_Chorus_. Then drown the fears of the coming years,
And the dread of change before us;
The way is sweet to our willing feet,
With the smoke-wreaths twining o'er us.

As the light beams through the ringlets blue,
Will hope beam through our sorrow,
While the gathering wreath of the smoke we breathe
Shuts out the fear of to-morrow.

A magic charm in the evening calm
Calls thought from mem'ry's treasure;
But clear and bright in the liquid light
Are the smoke-called dreams of pleasure.

Then who shall chide, with boasting pride,
Delights they ne'er have tasted?
Oh, let them smile while we beguile
The hour with joys they've wasted.

_College Song._





Next: HOW IT ONCE WAS.

Previous: THE SMOKE TRAVELLER.



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