Once there was a little yellow Tulip, and she lived down in a little dark house under the ground. One day she was sitting there, all by herself, and it was very still. Suddenly, she heard a little _tap, tap, tap_, at the door. "Who is that... Read more of THE LITTLE YELLOW TULIP at Children Stories.caInformational Site Network Informational
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Smoking Poems

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

The Patriotic Smoker's Lament.
Tell me, shade of Walter Raleigh, Briton of the true...

Henry Fielding.
Friend of my youth, companion of my later days. Wh...

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

To The Rev. Mr. Newton.
Says the Pipe to the Snuff-box, "I can't understand ...

Choosing A Wife By A Pipe Of Tobacco.
Tube, I love thee as my life; By thee I mean to choose...

A Brief Puff Of Smoke.
Great Doctor Parr, the learned Whig, Ne'er deemed the ...

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

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

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

In Favor Of Tobacco.
Much victuals serves for gluttony To fatten men like s...

My Friendly Pipe.
Let sybarites still dream delights While smoking cig...

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

The Scent Of A Good Cigar.
What is it comes through the deepening dusk,-- Somethi...

Chibouque.
At Yeni-Djami, after Rhamadan, The pacha in his pala...

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

My Cigarette.
My cigarette! The amulet That charms afar unrest and...

Acrostic.
To thee, blest weed, whose sovereign wiles, O'er cankere...

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

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



"KEATS TOOK SNUFF."








"Keats took snuff.... It has been established by the
praise-worthy editorial research of Mr. Burton Forman."


So "Keats took snuff?" A few more years,
When we are dead and famous--eh?
Will they record our pipes and beers,
And if we smoked cigars or clay?
Or will the world cry "Quantum suff"
To tattle such as "Keats took snuff"?

Perhaps some chronicler would wish
To know what whiskey we preferred,
And if we ever dined on fish,
Or only took the joint and bird.
Such facts are quite as worthy stuff,
Good chronicler, as "Keats took snuff."

You answer: "But, if you were Keats--"
Tut! never mind your buts and ifs,
Of little men record their meats,
Their drinks, their troubles, and their tiffs,
Of the great dead there's gold enough
To spare us such as "Keats took snuff."

Well, go your ways, you little folk,
Who polish up the great folk's lives;
Record the follies that they spoke,
And paint their squabbles with their wives.
Somewhere, if ever ghosts be gruff,
I trust some Keats will "give you snuff."

_The Globe_, London.





Next: THE BALLAD OF THE PIPE.

Previous: THE DISCOVERY OF TOBACCO.



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