Yes, social friend, I love thee well,
In learnèd doctors' spite;
Thy clouds all other clouds dispel,
And lap me in delight.
To my Cigar. C. SPRAGUE.
Such often, like the tube they so admire,
Important triflers! have more smoke than fire.
Pernicious weed! whose scent the fair annoys,
Unfriendly to society's chief joys,
Thy worst effect is banishing for hours
The sex whose presence civilizes ours.
Conversation. W. COWPER.
Tobacco's a musician,
And in a pipe delighteth;
It descends in a close
Through the organ of the nose.
With a relish that inviteth.
Song: Play of Technogamia. B. HOLIDAY.
Some sigh for this and that;
My wishes don't go far;
The world may wag at will,
So I have my cigar.
The Cigar. T. HOOD.
The pipe, with solemn interposing puff,
Makes half a sentence at a time enough;
The dozing sages drop the drowsy strain,
Then pause, and puff—and speak, and pause again.
Conversation. W. COWPER.
To him 't was meat and drink and physic,
To see the friendly vapor
Curl round his midnight taper.
And the black fume
Clothe all the room,
In clouds as dark as science metaphysic.
Points of Misery. C.M. WESTMACOTT.
Just where the breath of life his nostrils drew,
A charge of snuff the wily virgin threw;
The gnomes direct, to every atom just,
The pungent grains of titillating dust;
Sudden, with starting tears each eye o'erflows,
And the high dome re-echoes to his nose.
Rape of the Lock, Canto V. A. POPE.
TO-MORROW.
To-morrow yet would reap to-day,
As we bear blossoms of the dead;
Earn well the thrifty months, nor wed
Raw Haste, half-sister to Delay.
Love Thou the Land. A. TENNYSON.
In human hearts what bolder thoughts can rise,
Than man's presumption on to-morrow's dawn!
Where is to-morrow?
Night Thoughts, Night I. DR. E. YOUNG.