For cigars
O! my stars,
How I cry!
For a smoke is the shield
Before which troubles yield—
Enabling us cares to defy!
E. H. S.
——:o:——
Epitaph
On a young lady who desired that Tobacco might be
planted over her grave.
For cigars
O! my stars,
How I cry!
For a smoke is the shield
Before which troubles yield—
Enabling us cares to defy!
E. H. S.
——:o:——
Epitaph
On a young lady who desired that Tobacco might be
planted over her grave.