Believe me stile, as I have ever been Ide steadfast lover of my fellow mew, my weakness, lives ofherly leberty; weakness, with that all mankind aven My сшее Free und by blord redeemed but but by cried; Eat the simplest food, Drink the pure, cold water, Then you will be well, Or at least you oughter. ANONYMOUS. A FAREWELL TO TOBACCO. MAY the Babylonish curse Straight confound my stammering verse, If I can a passage see In this word-perplexity, Or a fit expression find, Or a language to my mind (Still the phrase is wide or scant), To take leave of thee, great plant ! Half my love, or half my hate; Sooty retainer to the vine! And, for thy pernicious sake, Than reclaiméd lovers take 'Gainst women! Thou thy siege dost lay Much, too, in the female way, While thou suck'st the laboring breath Faster than kisses, or than death. Thou in such a cloud dost bind us That our worst foes cannot find us, And ill fortune, that would thwart us, Shoots at rovers, shooting at us; While each man, through thy heightening steam, Does like a smoking Etna seem; And all about us does express Irony all, and feigned abuse, Or, as men, constrained to part With what's nearest to their heart, While their sorrow 's at the height Lose discrimination quite, And their hasty wrath let fall, To appease their frantic gall, On the darling thing, whatever, Whence they feel it death to sever, Though it be, as they, perforce, Guiltless of the sad divorce. For I must (nor let it grieve thee, Friendliest of plants, that I must) leave thee. For thy sake, tobacco, I Would do anything but die, Go to my mother's side, And her crushed spirit cheer; Thine own deep anguish hide, Wipe from her cheek the tear; Mark her dimmed eye, her furrowed brow, The gray that streaks her dark hair now, The toil-worn frame, the trembling limb, And trace the ruin back to him Whose plighted faith, in early youth, Promised eternal love and truth, But who, forsworn, hath yielded up This promise to the deadly cup, And led her down from love and light, From all that made her pathway bright, We've learned what comfort is, I tell you! A bed on the floor, a bit of rosin, (This out-door business is bad for the strings), Then a few nice buckwheats hot from the griddle, And Roger and I set up for kings! No, thank ye, sir, I never drink; Roger and I are exceedingly moral, Are n't we, Roger?- see him wink !· Well, something hot, then, --we won't quarrel. He's thirsty too, see him nod his head? What a pity, sir, that dogs can't talk! He understands every word that's said, The truth is, sir, now I reflect, I've been so sadly given to grog, I wonder I've not lost the respect He'll follow while he has eyes in his sockets. |