To the eulogist of tobacco, who, on [column 195] of your present volume, defies “all daintie meats,” and
——“keeps his kitchen in a box,
And roast meat in a pipe,”
take as an antidote the following from Peter Hausted’s Raphael Thorius: London, 1551.
Let it be damn’d to Hell, and call’d from thence,
Proserpine’s wine, the Furies’ frankincense,
The Devil’s addle eggs.
Hawkins Brown, esq., parodying Ambrose Philips, writes thus prettily to his pipe:—
Little tube of mighty power,
Charmer of an idle hour,
Object of my warm desire;
Lip of wax, and eye of fire;
And thy snowy taper waist,
With my finger gently brac’d; &c.
In our own times the following have appeared.
“La Pipe de Tabac,” a French song to music, by Geweaux, contains the following humorous stanzas:—
“Le soldat baille sous la tente,
Le matelot sur le tillac,
Bientôt ils ont l’âme contente,
Avec la pipe de tabac;
Si pourtant survient une belle,
A l’instant le cœur fait tìc tac,
Et l’Amant oublie auprès d’elle,
Jusqu’à la pipe de tabac.