Archery is the art of shooting with a bow and arrow. It is especially adapted as a lawn game for ladies and gentlemen, but boys and girls can practise archery and become proficient with bows and arrows just as the Indians were or the boys in En... Read more of ARCHERY at Games Kids Play.caInformational Site Network Informational
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Smoking Poems

My Cigar.
In spite of my physician, who is, _entre nous_, a fogy, ...

An Encomium On Tobacco.
Thrice happy isles that stole the world's delight, And...

Virginia's Kingly Plant.
_BY AN "OLD SALT."_ Oh, muse! grant me the power (I...

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

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

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

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

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

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

A Poet's Pipe.
_FROM THE FRENCH OF CHARLES BAUDELAIRE._ A poet's pipe...

The Dreamer's Pipe.
Meerschaum, thing with amber tip, Clutched between the...

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

My Pipe And I.
There may be comrades in this world, As stanch and t...

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

Chibouque.
At Yeni-Djami, after Rhamadan, The pacha in his pala...

With Pipe And Book.
With Pipe and Book at close of day, Oh, what is sweete...

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

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

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

Cannon Song.
Come, seniors, come, and fill your pipes, Your richest...



TO MY MEERSCHAUM.








There's a charm in the sun-crested hills,
In the quivering light of a star,
In the flash of a silvery rill,
Yet to me thou art lovelier far,
My Meerschaum!

There's a love in her witching dark eye,
There's a love in her tresses at play,
Yet her love would be worth not a sigh,
If from thee she could lure me away,
My Meerschaum!

Let revellers sing of their wine,
As they toss it in ecstasy down,
But the bowl I call for is thine,
With its deepening amber and brown,
My Meerschaum!

For when trouble would bid me despair,
I call for a flagon of beer,
And puff a defiance to care,
Till sorrows in smoke disappear,
My Meerschaum!

Though mid pleasures unnumbered I whirl,
Though I traverse the billowy sea,
Yet the waving and beautiful curl
Of thy smoke's ever dearer to me,
My Meerschaum!

P.D.R.





Next: OLD PIPE OF MINE.

Previous: MAECENAS BIDS HIS FRIEND TO DINE.



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