It must be remembered that two negatives in the English language destroy each other and are equivalent to an affirmative. Thus "I don't know nothing about it" is intended to convey, that I am ignorant of the matter under consideration, but i... Read more of DOUBLE NEGATIVE at Speaking Writing.comInformational Site Network Informational
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Smoking Poems

How It Once Was.
Right stout and strong the worthy burghers stood, ...

A Song Without A Name.
AIR: "_THE VICAR OF BRAY_." 'Twas in Queen Bess's gold...

Maecenas Bids His Friend To Dine.
I beg you come to-night and dine. A welcome waits you, a...

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

Ode To Tobacco.
Come then, Tobacco, new-found friend, Come, and thy ...

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ashes.
Wrapped in a sadly tattered gown, Alone I puff my brie...

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

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

Another Match.
_AFTER A.C. SWINBURNE._ If love were dhudeen olden, ...

Smoking Song.
With grateful twirl our smoke-wreaths curl, As mist ...

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

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

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

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



THE OLD CLAY PIPE.








There's a lot of solid comfort
In an old clay pipe, I find,
If you're kind of out of humor
Or in trouble in your mind.
When you're feeling awful lonesome
And don't know just what to do,
There's a heap of satisfaction
If you smoke a pipe or two.

The ten thousand pleasant memories
That are buried in your soul
Are playing hide and seek with you
Around that smoking bowl.
These are mighty restful moments:
You're at peace with all the world,
And the panorama changes
As the thin blue smoke is curled.

Now you cross the bridge of sorrows,
Now you enter pleasant lands,
And before an open doorway,
You will linger to shake hands
With a lithe and girlish figure
That is coming through the door;
Ah! you recognize the features:
You have seen that face before.

You are at the dear old homestead
Where you spent those happy years;
You are romping with the children;
You are smiling through your tears;
You have fought and whipped the bully
You are eight and he is ten.
Oh! how rapidly we travel,--
You are now a boy again.

You approach the open doorway,
And before the old armchair
You will stop and kiss the grandma,
You will smooth the thin white hair;
You will read the open Bible,
For the lamp is lit, you see.
It is now your hour for bed-time
And you kneel at mother's knee.

Still you linger at the hearthstone;
You are loath to leave the place.
When an apple cut's in progress:
You must wait and dance with Grace.

What's the matter with the music?
Only this: The pipe is broke,
And a thousand pleasant fancies
Vanish promptly with the smoke.

A.B. VAN FLEET.





Next: PERNICIOUS WEED!

Previous: THE BALLAD OF THE PIPE.



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