The dentist is one who pulls out the teeth of others to obtain employment for his own. One day little Flora was taken to have an aching tooth removed. That night, while she was saying her prayers, her mother was surprised to hear her say... Read more of DENTISTS at Free Jokes.caInformational Site Network Informational
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Smoking Poems

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

Cannon Song.
Come, seniors, come, and fill your pipes, Your richest...

The Last Pipe.
When head is sick and brain doth swim, And heavy hangs...

A Pot, And A Pipe Of Tobacco.
Some praise taking snuff; And 'tis pleasant en...

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

My Meerschaum Pipe.
Old meerschaum pipe, I'll fondly wipe Thy scarred an...

My Pipe.
When love grows cool, thy fire still warms me; When fr...

Ode To My Pipe.
O Blessed pipe, That now I clutch within my gripe, ...

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

The True Leucothoe.
Let others praise the god of wine, Or Venus, love, a...

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

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

The Pipe Critic.
Say, pipe, let's talk of love; Canst aid me?...

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

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

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

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

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

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

Two Other Hearts.
Full tender beamed the light of love down from his manl...



SONG OF THE SMOKE-WREATHS.








_SUNG TO THE SMOKERS._


Not like clouds that cap the mountains,
Not like mists that mask the sea,
Not like vapors round the fountains,--
Soft and clear and warm are we.

Hear the tempest, how its minions
Tear the clouds and heap the snows!
No storm-rage is in our pinions;
Who knows us, 'tis peace he knows.

Soaring from the burning censers,
Stealing forth through all the air,
Hovering as the mild dispensers
Over you of blisses rare,

Softly float we, softly blend we,
Tinted from the deep blue sky,
Scented from the myrrh-lands, bend we
Downward to you ere we die.

Ease we bring, and airy fancies,
Sober thoughts with visions gay,
Peace profound with daring glances
Through the clouds to endless day.

Not like clouds that cap the mountains,
Not like mists that mask the sea,
Not like vapors round the fountains,--
Soft and clear and warm are we.

L.T.A., in _London Society_.





Next: SMOKE AND CHESS.

Previous: THE FARMER'S PIPE.



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