My theme shall be Tobacco!
Hail, weed, eclipsing every flow'r,
Of thee I fain would make my bow'r,
When fortune frowns, or tempests low'r,
Mild comforter of woe!
They say in truth an angel's foot
First brought to life thy precious root,
The source of every pleasure!
Descending from the skies he press'd
With hallowed touch Earth's yielding breast;