There was once a little girl who was very, very poor. Her father and mother had died, and at last she had no little room to stay in, and no little bed to sleep in, and nothing more to eat except one piece of bread. So she said a prayer, put on ... Read more of THE STAR DOLLARS at Children Stories.caInformational Site Network Informational
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Smoking Poems

Meerschaum.
Come to me, O my meerschaum, For the vile street organ...

To My Cigar.
Yes, social friend, I love thee well, In learned doc...

A Pot, And A Pipe Of Tobacco.
Some praise taking snuff; And 'tis pleasant en...

In Wreaths Of Smoke.
In wreaths of smoke, blown waywardwise, Faces of o...

Sic Transit.
Just a note that I found on my table, By the bills of ...

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

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

He Respondeth.
SHE. You still persist in using, I observe with g...

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

The Duet.
I was smoking a cigarette; Maud, my wife, and the te...

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

My Cigarette.
_WORDS AND MUSIC BY RICHARD BARNARD_. To my sweet ciga...

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

A Warning.
HE. I loathe all books. I hate to see The world a...

A Bachelor's Soliloquy.
I sit all alone with my pipe by the fire, I ne'er kn...

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

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

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

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

Old Pipe Of Mine.
Companion of my lonely hours, Full many a time 'twix...



THOSE ASHES.








Up to the frescoed ceiling
The smoke of my cigarette
In a sinuous spray is reeling,
Forming flower and minaret.

What delicious landscape floating
On perfumed wings I see;
Pale swans I am idly noting,
And queens robed in filagree.

I see such delicious faces
As ne'er man saw before,
And my fancy fondly chases
Sweet maids on a fairy shore.

Now to bits my air-castle crashes,
And those pictures I see no more;
My grandmother yells: "Them ashes--
Don't drop them on the floor!"

R.K. MUNKITTRICK.





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Previous: THE TRUE LEUCOTHOE.



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