'Tis fifty to one
They're both as soon gone
As you'd puff out a pipe of tobacco.
Life's short, 'tis agreed;
So we'll try from the weed,
Of man a brief emblem to tack, O!
When his spirit ascends,
Die he must,—and he ends
In dust, like a pipe of tobacco.
From "The Universal Songster, or Museum of Mirth."