A southern minister was completing a temperance sermon. With great expression, he said, "If I had all the beer in the world, I'd take it and pour it into the river." With even greater emphasis, he said, "And if I had all the wine in the world, I'd ... Read more of Minister for drinks at Free Jokes.caInformational Site Network Informational
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Smoking Poems

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

To My Meerschaum.
There's a charm in the sun-crested hills, In the qui...

On A Broken Pipe.
Neglected now it lies, a cold clay form, So late with ...

Titlepage Dedication.
"Let those smoke now who never smoked before, And those ...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

My Three Loves.
When Life was all a summer day, And I was under twenty...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Smoker's Reverie.
(_OCTOBER._) I'm sitting at dusk 'neath the old beeche...



"A FREE PUFF."








Do you remember when first we met?
I was turning twenty--well! I don't forget
How I walked along,
Humming a song
Across the fields and down the lane
By the country road, and back again
To the dear old farm--three miles or more--
And brought you home from the village store.

Summer was passing--don't you recall
The splendid harvest we had that Fall,
And how when the Autumn died,--sober and brown,--
We trudged down the turnpike, and on to the town?

Sweet black brierwood pipe of mine!
If you were human you'd be half divine,
For when I've looked beyond the smoke, into your burning bowl
In times of need
You've been, indeed,
The only comfort, sweetest solace, of my overflowing soul.
We've been together nearly thirty years, old fellow!
And now, you must admit, we're both a trifle mellow.
We have had our share of joys and a deal of sorrows,
And while we're only waiting for a few more to-morrows,
Others will come, and others will go,
And Time will gather what Youth will sow;
But we together will go down the rough
Road to the end, and to the end--puff.

ARTHUR IRVING GRAY.





Next: MY MEERSCHAUM PIPE.

Previous: WRONGFELLOW.



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