The Line of Destiny, otherwise called the Line of Fate is naturally one of the most important of the principal lines of the hand. Although one may never be able to explain why it is, this line undoubtedly appears to indicate at least the ma... Read more of The Line Of Destiny Or Fate at Palm Readings.orgInformational Site Network Informational
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Smoking Poems

The Cigar.
Some sigh for this and that, My wishes don't go far;...

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

The Last Pipe.
When head is sick and brain doth swim, And heavy hangs...

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

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

Smoke Is The Food Of Lovers.
When Cupid open'd shop, the trade he chose Was just th...

Smoking Away.
Floating away like the fountains' spray, Or the snow...

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

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

An Ode Of Thanks For Certain Cigars.
_TO CHARLES ELIOT NORTON._ Luck, my dear Norton, still...

In Favor Of Tobacco.
Much victuals serves for gluttony To fatten men like s...

A Good Cigar.
Oh, 'tis well and enough, A whiff or a puff From th...

Ode To Tobacco.
Thou, who when fears attack Bidst them avaunt, and Bla...

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

Edifying Reflections Of A Tobacco-smoker.
_SET TO MUSIC BY JOHANN SEBASTIAN BACH. AUTHOR UNKNOWN. TRANS...

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

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

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

'twas Off The Blue Canaries.
'Twas off the blue Canary isles, A glorious summer d...

A Pipe Of Tobacco.
Let the toper regale in his tankard of ale, Or with ...



THE TRUE LEUCOTHOE.








Let others praise the god of wine,
Or Venus, love, and beauty's smile;
I choose a theme not less divine,--
The plant that grows in Cuba's Isle.

The old Greeks err'd who bound with bays
Apollo's brow; the verdant crown
He wore, when measuring their days,
Grew in the West, where he went down.

An idle tale they also told;
They said he gave them frankincense,
Borne by some tree he loved of old;
If so, he gave a mere pretence.

For the true offspring of his love--
Tobacco--grew far o'er the sea,
Where Leucothoe from above
Led him as honey leads the bee,

Till on that plant he paus'd to gaze
Some moments ere he held his way,
And cheer her with his warmest rays,
Heedless of time or length of day.

Then with a sigh his brows he wreath'd
With leaves that care and toil beguile,
And bless'd, as their perfume he breath'd,
The plant that grows in Cuba's Isle.

ANON.





Next: THOSE ASHES.

Previous: A LOSS.



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