There is a tiny weed, man,
That grows far o’er the sea man;
The juice of which does more bewitch
Than does the gossip’s tea, man.
2.
Its name is call’d tobacco,
’Tis used near and far man;
The car-man chews—but I will choose
The daintier cigar, man.
3.
’Tis dainty ev’n in shape, man—
So round, so smooth, so long, man!
If you’re a churl, ’twill from you hurl
Your spleen—you’ll sing a song, man!
4.
If you will once permit it
To touch your swelling lip, man,
You soon shall see ’twill sweeter be
Than what the bee doth sip, man!
5.
If e’er you are in trouble,
This will your trouble still, man,
On sea and land ’tis at command,
An idle hour to kill, man!
6.