The names given to the various lines of a tooth on a gear-wheel are as follows: In Figure 233, A is the face and B the flank of a tooth, while C is the point, and D the root of the tooth; E is the height or depth, and F the breadth. P P is t... Read more of Drawing Gear Wheels at How to Draw.caInformational Site Network Informational
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Smoking Poems

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

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

Sweet Smoking Pipe.
Sweet smoking pipe; bright glowing stove, Companion ...

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

Tobacco Is An Indian Weed.
Tobacco's but an Indian weed, Grows green at morn, cut...

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

To A Pipe Of Tobacco.
Come, lovely tube, by friendship blest, Belov'd and ...

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

A Loss.
How hard a thing it is to part From those we love an...

To See Her Pipe Awry.
Betty bouncer kept a stall At the corner of a street...

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

Choosing A Wife By A Pipe Of Tobacco.
Tube, I love thee as my life; By thee I mean to choose...

My Little Brown Pipe.
I have a little comforter, I carry in my pocket: ...

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

The Old Clay Pipe.
There's a lot of solid comfort In an old clay pipe, ...

My After-dinner Cloud.
Some sombre evening, when I sit And feed in solitude...

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

Motto For A Tobacco Jar.
Come! don't refuse sweet Nicotina's aid, But woo the...

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

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



THE PIPE CRITIC.








Say, pipe, let's talk of love;
Canst aid me? By my life,
I'll ask not gods above
To help me choose a wife;
But to thy gentle self I'll give the puzzling strife.

Thy color let me find,
And blue like smoke her eyes;
A healthy store her mind
As that which in thee lies,--
An evanescent draft, whose incense mounts the skies.

And, pipe, a breath like thine;
Her hair an amber gold,
And wrought in shapes as fine
As that which now I hold;
A grace in every limb, her form thy slender mould.

And when her lips I kiss,
Oh, may she burn like thee,
And strive to give me bliss!
A comforter to be
When friends wax cold, time fades, and all departs from me.

And may she hide in smoke,
As you, my friend, have done,
The failings that would choke
My virtues every one,
Turn grief to laughing jest, or painful thought to fun.

Her aid be such as thine
To stir my brain a bit.
When 'round this hearth of mine
Friends sit and banter wit,
She'll shape a well-turned phrase, a subtle jest to hit.

In short, my sole delight
(Why, pipe, you sputter so!),
Whose angel visage bright
(And at me ashes throw!)
Shall never rival fear. You're jealous now, I know.

Nay, pipe, I'll not leave thee;
For of thy gifts there's one
That's passing dear to me
Whose equal she'd have none,--
The gift of peace serene; she'd have, alas, a tongue!

WALTER LITTLEFIELD.





Next: A SONG WITHOUT A NAME.

Previous: MY CIGARETTE.



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