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

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

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

Too Great A Sacrifice.
The maid, as by the papers doth appear, Whom fifty tho...

Cigarette Rings.
How it blows! How it rains! I'll not turn out to-night; ...

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

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

On Receipt Of A Rare Pipe.
I lifted off the lid with anxious care, Removed the ...

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

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?...

A Valentine.
What's my love's name? Guess her name. Nina? No....

Effusion By A Cigar Smoker.
Warriors! who from the cannon's mouth blow fire, ...

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

Virginia's Kingly Plant.
_BY AN "OLD SALT."_ Oh, muse! grant me the power (I...

In Favor Of Tobacco.
Much victuals serves for gluttony To fatten men like s...

Seasonable Sweets.
"_DON'T BE FLOWERY, JACOB._"--CHARLES DICKENS. When th...

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

Sic Transit.
Just a note that I found on my table, By the bills of ...

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

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



SWEET SMOKING PIPE.








Sweet smoking pipe; bright glowing stove,
Companion still of my retreat,
Thou dost my gloomy thoughts remove,
And purge my brain with gentle heat.

Tobacco, charmer of my mind,
When, like the meteor's transient gleam.
Thy substance gone to air I find,
I think, alas, my life's the same!

What else but lighted dust am I?
Then shew'st me what my fate will be;
And when thy sinking ashes die,
I learn that I must end like thee.

ANON.





Next: CIGARETTE RINGS.

Previous: THE HAPPY SMOKING-GROUND.



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