The following is an old but good story. The Rev. Joseph Wilkins died, an aged man, in 1800. He left this narrative, often printed; the date of the adventure is 1754, when Mr. Wilkins, aged twenty-three, was a schoolmaster in Devonshire. The ... Read more of The Dream That Knocked At The Door at Scary Stories.caInformational Site Network Informational
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Smoking Poems

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

How It Once Was.
Right stout and strong the worthy burghers stood, ...

A Brief Puff Of Smoke.
Great Doctor Parr, the learned Whig, Ne'er deemed the ...

On Receipt Of A Rare Pipe.
I lifted off the lid with anxious care, Removed the ...

Ad Nicotina.
"_A CONSTRAINED HYPERBOLE._" Let others sing the prais...

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

In The Ol' Tobacker Patch.
I jess kind o' feel so lonesome that I don't know what to...

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...

The Smoker's Calendar.
When January's cold appears, A glowing pipe my spirit ...

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

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

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

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


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!




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