Some people grow old gracefully, while others fight and scratch the whole way. Andy's wife, refusing to give in to the looks of growing old, goes out and buys a new line of expensive cosmetics guaranteed to make her look years younger. After ... Read more of How old am I? at Free Jokes.caInformational Site Network Informational
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Smoking Poems

My Meerschaums.
Long pipes and short ones, straight and curved, High...

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

"a Free Puff."
Do you remember when first we met? I was turning twent...

My Cigar.
In spite of my physician, who is, _entre nous_, a fogy, ...

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

My Three Loves.
When Life was all a summer day, And I was under twenty...

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

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

A Farewell To Tobacco.
May the Babylonish curse Straight confound my stammeri...

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

Ad Nicotina.
"_A CONSTRAINED HYPERBOLE._" Let others sing the prais...

Clouds.
Mortals say their heart is light When the clouds aroun...

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

Inscription For A Tobacco Jar.
Keep me at hand; and as my fumes arise, You'll find _a...

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

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

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

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

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

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



THE DUET.








I was smoking a cigarette;
Maud, my wife, and the tenor, McKey,
Were singing together a blithe duet,
And days it were better I should forget
Came suddenly back to me,--
Days when life seemed a gay masque ball,
And to love and be loved was the sum of it all.

As they sang together, the whole scene fled,
The room's rich hangings, the sweet home air,
Stately Maud, with her proud blond head,
And I seemed to see in her place instead
A wealth of blue-black hair,
And a face, ah! your face--yours, Lisette;
A face it were wiser I should forget.

We were back--well, no matter when or where;
But you remember, I know, Lisette.
I saw you, dainty and debonair,
With the very same look that you used to wear
In the days I should forget.
And your lips, as red as the vintage we quaffed,
Were pearl-edged bumpers of wine when you laughed.

Two small slippers with big rosettes
Peeped out under your kilt-skirt there,
While we sat smoking our cigarettes
(Oh, I shall be dust when my heart forgets!)
And singing that self-same air:
And between the verses, for interlude,
I kissed your throat and your shoulders nude.

You were so full of a subtle fire,
You were so warm and so sweet, Lisette;
You were everything men admire;
And there were no fetters to make us tire,
For you were--a pretty grisette.
But you loved as only such natures can,
With a love that makes heaven or hell for a man.

They have ceased singing that old duet,
Stately Maud and the tenor, McKey.
"You are burning your coat with your cigarette,
And _qu'avez vous_, dearest, your lids are wet,"
Maud says, as she leans o'er me.
And I smile, and lie to her, husband-wise,
"Oh, it is nothing but smoke in my eyes."

ELLA WHEELER WILCOX.





Next: MY CIGARETTE.

Previous: IN ROTTEN ROW.



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