The matter in this chapter does not seem, strictly speaking, to come under the head of any of the preceding ones: it contains no account of houses or places permanently haunted, or of warnings of impending death. Rather we have gathered up... Read more of Miscellaneous Supernormal Experiences at Scary Stories.caInformational Site Network Informational
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Smoking Poems

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

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

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

Epitaph
_ON A YOUNG LADY WHO DESIRED THAT TOBACCO MIGHT BE PLANTED OV...

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

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

What I Like.
To lie with half-closed eyes, as in a dream, Upon the ...

The Lost Lotus.
'Tis said that in the sun-embroidered East, There dw...

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

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

Two Other Hearts.
Full tender beamed the light of love down from his manl...

An Ode Of Thanks For Certain Cigars.
_TO CHARLES ELIOT NORTON._ Luck, my dear Norton, still...

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

'twas Off The Blue Canaries.
'Twas off the blue Canary isles, A glorious summer d...

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

Meerschaum.
Come to me, O my meerschaum, For the vile street organ...

A Pot, And A Pipe Of Tobacco.
Some praise taking snuff; And 'tis pleasant en...

Ode To My Pipe.
O Blessed pipe, That now I clutch within my gripe, ...

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

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



WRONGFELLOW.








I like cigars
Beneath the stars,
Upon the waters blue.
To laugh and float
While rocks the boat
Upon the waves,--Don't you?

To rest the oar
And float to shore,--
While soft the moonbeams shine,--
To laugh and joke,
And idly smoke;
I think is quite divine.

ELLA WHEELER WILCOX.





Next: "A FREE PUFF."

Previous: MEERSCHAUM.



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