A woman visitor to the city entered a taxicab. No sooner was the door closed than the car leaped forward violently, and afterward went racing wildly along the street, narrowly missing collision with innumerable things. The passenger, natural... Read more of Beginners at Free Jokes.caInformational Site Network Informational
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Smoking Poems

A Brief Puff Of Smoke.
Great Doctor Parr, the learned Whig, Ne'er deemed the ...

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...

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

With Pipe And Book.
With Pipe and Book at close of day, Oh, what is sweete...

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

Wrongfellow.
I like cigars Beneath the stars, Upon the water...

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

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

The Ballade Of Tobacco.
When verdant youth sees life afar, And first sets ou...

An Old Sweetheart Of Mine.
As one who cons at evening o'er an album all alone, An...

To C.f. Bradford.
_ON THE GIFT OF A MEERSCHAUM PIPE._ The pipe came safe...

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

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

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

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

Those Ashes.
Up to the frescoed ceiling The smoke of my cigarette...

The Happy Smoking-ground.
When that last pipe is smoked at last And pouch and ...

Cigars And Beer.
Here With my beer I sit, While g...

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



THE HAPPY SMOKING-GROUND.








When that last pipe is smoked at last
And pouch and pipe put by,
And Smoked and Smoker both alike
In dust and ashes lie,
What of the Smoker? Whither passed?
Ah, will he smoke no more?
And will there be no golden cloud
Upon the golden shore?
Ah! who shall say we cry in vain
To Fate upon his hill,
For, howsoe'er we ask and ask,
He goes on smoking still.
But, surely, 'twere a bitter thing
If other men pursue
Their various earthly joys again
Beyond that distant blue,
If the poor Smoker might not ply
His peaceful passion too.
If Indian braves may still up there
On merry scalpings go,
And buried Britons rise again
With arrow and with bow,
May not the Smoker hope to take
His "cutty" from below?
So let us trust; and when at length
You lay me 'neath the yew,
Forget not, O my friends, I pray,
Pipes and tobacco too!

RICHARD LE GALLIENNE.





Next: SWEET SMOKING PIPE.

Previous: MY AFTER-DINNER CLOUD.



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