Nor why the sou’-west blast is blowing.
I never breathed the dull tame air,
But I relished my great pipe mair and mair,
And back again flew for a soothing puff,
Like a bird—I’m sure that’s quick enough.
My mother it is, and I’ll prove it to ye,
(Much more of a mother than the open sea!)
For smoking, I am at it ever and ever!
I hope your comment on this line is “clever!”
For fear of growing at all lackadaisical