Only one color, but not one size, Stuck at the bottom, yet easily flies. Present in sun, but not in rain, Doing no harm, and feeling no pain. What is it. ... Read more of Only one color, but not one size, at Free Jokes.caInformational Site Network Informational
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Smoking Poems

"keats Took Snuff."
"Keats took snuff.... It has been established by the ...

Pernicious Weed!
The pipe, with solemn interposing puff, Makes half a s...

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

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

Cigars And Beer.
Here With my beer I sit, While g...

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

If I Were King.
If I were king, my pipe should be premier. The skies o...

The True Leucothoe.
Let others praise the god of wine, Or Venus, love, a...

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

Envoi.
Smokers, who doubt or con or pro, And ye who dare to...

Ingin Summer.
Jest about the time when Fall Gits to rattlin' in th...

Her Brother's Cigarette.
Like raven's wings her locks of jet, Her soft eyes tou...

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

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

Maecenas Bids His Friend To Dine.
I beg you come to-night and dine. A welcome waits you, a...

Those Ashes.
Up to the frescoed ceiling The smoke of my cigarette...

Geordie To His Tobacco-pipe.
Good pipe, old friend, old black and colored friend, W...

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

My Meerschaums.
Long pipes and short ones, straight and curved, High...

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



TOBACCO.








The Indian weed, withered quite,
Green at noon, cut down at night,
Shows thy decay; all flesh is hay,
Thus thinke, then drinke tobacco.

The pipe that is so lily-white,
Shows thee to be a mortal wight;
And even such, gone with a touch,
Thus thinke, then drinke tobacco.

And when the smoke ascends on high,
Thinke thou beholdst the vanity
Of worldly stuffe, gone with a puffe,
Thus thinke, then drinke tobacco.

And when the pipe grows foul within,
Think on thy soule defil'd with sin,
And then the fire it doth require.
Thus thinke, then drinke tobacco.

The ashes that are left behind,
May serve to put thee still in mind,
That unto dust return thou must.
Thus thinke, then drinke tobacco.

GEORGE WITHER, 1620.





Next: VIRGINIA'S KINGLY PLANT.

Previous: CANNON SONG.



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