"Yes," she said, from her seat in the dark corner, "I'll tell you an experience if you care to listen. And, what's more, I'll tell it briefly, without trimmings--I mean without unessentials. That's a thing story-tellers never do, you know," ... Read more of The Woman's Ghost Story at Scary Stories.caInformational Site Network Informational
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Smoking Poems

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

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

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

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

The Latest Convert.
I've been in love some scores of times, With Amy, Ne...

Song Of The Smoke-wreaths.
_SUNG TO THE SMOKERS._ Not like clouds that cap the mo...

A Symphony In Smoke.
A pretty, piquant, pouting pet, Who likes to muse and ...

A Pipe Of Tobacco.
Let the toper regale in his tankard of ale, Or with ...

Latakia.
I. When all the panes are hung with frost, Wild wiz...

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

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

Motto For A Tobacco Jar.
Come! don't refuse sweet Nicotina's aid, But woo the...

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

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

Ode To Tobacco.
Come then, Tobacco, new-found friend, Come, and thy ...

Edifying Reflections Of A Tobacco-smoker.
_SET TO MUSIC BY JOHANN SEBASTIAN BACH. AUTHOR UNKNOWN. TRANS...

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

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...

My Cigarette.
Ma pauvre petite, My little sweet, Why do you cry...



TOBACCO IS AN INDIAN WEED.








Tobacco's but an Indian weed,
Grows green at morn, cut down at eve;
It shows decay; we are but clay;
Think of this when you smoke tobacco.

The pipe that is so lily white,
Wherein so many take delight,
Is broke with a touch,--man's life is such;
Think of this when you smoke tobacco.

The pipe that is so foul within
Shows how man's soul is stained with sin,
And then the fire it doth require;
Think of this when you smoke tobacco.

The ashes that are left behind
Do serve to put us all in mind
That unto dust return we must;
Think of this when you smoke tobacco.

The smoke that does so high ascend
Shews us man's life must have an end;
The vapor's gone,--man's life is done;
Think of this when you smoke tobacco.

From "_Pills to Purge Melancholy_."





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