A Frenchman once remarked: "The table is the only place where one is not bored for the first hour." Every rose has its thorn There's fuzz on all the peaches. There never was a dinner yet Without some lengthy speeches. ... Read more of AFTER DINNER SPEECHES at Free Jokes.caInformational Site Network Informational
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Smoking Poems

To A Pipe Of Tobacco.
Come, lovely tube, by friendship blest, Belov'd and ...

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

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

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

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

The Cigar.
Some sigh for this and that, My wishes don't go far;...

Clouds.
Mortals say their heart is light When the clouds aroun...

My Pipe.
When love grows cool, thy fire still warms me; When fr...

My Cigarette.
_WORDS AND MUSIC BY RICHARD BARNARD_. To my sweet ciga...

Wrongfellow.
I like cigars Beneath the stars, Upon the water...

Confession Of A Cigar Smoker.
I owe to smoking, more or less, Through life the whole...

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

Invocation To Tobacco.
Weed of the strange flower, weed of the earth, Killer ...

A Good Cigar.
Oh, 'tis well and enough, A whiff or a puff From th...

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

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

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

Smoking Song.
With grateful twirl our smoke-wreaths curl, As mist ...

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

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



"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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