A young couple got married and left on their honeymoon. When they got back, the bride immediately called her mother. "Well, how was the honeymoon?" asked the mother. "Oh mamma!" she exclaimed. "The honeymoon was wonderful! So romantic!" N... Read more of The honeymoon is over at Free Jokes.caInformational Site Network Informational
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Smoking Poems

Epitaph
_ON A YOUNG LADY WHO DESIRED THAT TOBACCO MIGHT BE PLANTED OV...

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

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

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

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

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

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

Smoking Spiritualized.
The following old poem was long ascribed, on apparently...

Meerschaum.
Come to me, O my meerschaum, For the vile street organ...

Smoke And Chess.
We were sitting at chess as the sun went down; And he,...

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

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

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

Pipe And Tobacco.
When my pipe burns bright and clear, The gods I need n...

Pipes And Beer.
Before I was famous I used to sit In a dull old unde...

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

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

Invocation To Tobacco.
Weed of the strange flower, weed of the earth, Killer ...

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

Henry Fielding.
Friend of my youth, companion of my later days. Wh...



THE BALLAD OF THE PIPE.








Oh, give me but Virginia's weed,
An earthen bowl, a stem of reed,
What care I for the weather?
Though winter freeze and summer broil
We rest us from our days of toil
My Pipe and I together!

Like to a priest of sacred fane,
I nightly light the glow again
With reverence and pleasure;
For through this plain and modest bowl
I coax sweet mem'ry to my soul
And many trippings measure!

There's comfort in each puff of smoke,
Defiance to ill-fortune's stroke
And happiness forever!
There grows a volume full of thought
And humor, than the book you bought
Holds nothing half so clever!

The summer fragrance, all pent up
Among the leaves, is here sent up
In dreams of summer glory;
And these blue clouds that slowly rise
Were colored by the summer skies,
And tell a summer story.

And oh! the happiest, sweetest times
Come ringing all their silver chimes
Of merry songs and laughter;
And all that may be well and worth
For Mother Future to bring forth
I do imagine after.

What care I if my poor means
Clad not my walls with splendid scenes
And pictures by the masters;
Here in the curling smoke-wreath glow
Bold hills and lovely vales below,
And brooks with nodding asters.

All that on earth is fair and fine,
This fragrant magic makes it mine,
And gives me sole dominion;
And if you call me fanciful,
I only take a stronger pull,
And laugh at your opinion.

Let others fret and fume with care,
'Tis easy finding everywhere,
But happiness is rarer;
And if I find it sweet and ripe,
In this tobacco and my pipe,
I'll count it all the fairer.

Then give me but Virginia's weed,
An earthen bowl, a stem of reed,
What care I for the weather?
Though winter freeze, or summer broil
We rest us from the days of toil,
My Pipe and I together.

HERMANN RAVE.





Next: THE OLD CLAY PIPE.

Previous: "KEATS TOOK SNUFF."



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