A Frenchman once remarked: "The table is the only place where one is not bored for the first hour." Every rose has its thorn There's fuzz on all the peaches. There never was a dinner yet Without some lengthy speeches. ... Read more of AFTER DINNER SPEECHES at Free Jokes.caInformational Site Network Informational
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Smoking Poems

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

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

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

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

My Cigarette.
My cigarette! The amulet That charms afar unrest and...

The Discovery Of Tobacco.
_A SAILOR'S VERSION_. They were three jolly sailors bo...

A Valentine.
What's my love's name? Guess her name. Nina? No....

Pipes And Beer.
Before I was famous I used to sit In a dull old unde...

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

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

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

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

Seasonable Sweets.
"_DON'T BE FLOWERY, JACOB._"--CHARLES DICKENS. When th...

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

The Betrothed.
"_YOU MUST CHOOSE BETWEEN ME AND YOUR CIGAR._" Open the ...

Confession Of A Cigar Smoker.
I owe to smoking, more or less, Through life the whole...

A Winter Evening Hymn To My Fire.
Nicotia, dearer to the Muse Than all the grape's bewil...

The Smoke Traveller.
When I puff my cigarette, Straight I see a Spanish g...

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

Inscription For A Tobacco Jar.
Keep me at hand; and as my fumes arise, You'll find _a...



TO AN OLD PIPE.








Once your smoothly polished face
Nestled lightly in a case;
'Twas a jolly cosy place,
I surmise;

And a zealous subject blew
On your cheeks, until they grew
To the fascinating hue
Of her eyes.

Near a rusty-hilted sword,
Now upon my mantel-board,
Where my curios are stored,
You recline.

You were pleasant company when
By the scribbling of her pen
I was sent the ways of men
To repine.

Tell me truly (you were there
When she ceased that debonair
Correspondence and affair)
I suppose

That she laughed and smiled all day;
Or did gentle tear-drops stray
Down her charming _retroussee_
Little nose?

Where the sunbeams, coyly still,
Fall upon the mantel-sill,
You perpetually will
Silence woo;

And I fear that she herself,
By the little chubby elf.
Will be laid upon the shelf
Just as you.

DE WITT STERRY.





Next: TITLEPAGE DEDICATION.

Previous: THE PATRIOTIC SMOKER'S LAMENT.



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