And if the blind god, Cupid,
Should strike you to the heart, man,
Take up a glass, and toast your lass—
And—ne’er from smoking part, man!
7.
And also if you’re married,
In Hymen’s chains fast bound, man;
To plague your wife out of her life,
Smoke still the whole year round, man!
8.
How sweet ’tis of an evening
When wint’ry winds do blow, man,
As ’twere in spite, to take a pipe,
And smoke by th’ fire’s glow, man!
9.
The sailor in his ship, man,
When wildly rolls the wave, man,
His pipe will smoke, and crack his joke
Above his yawning grave, man!
10.
The soldier, in the tavern,
Talks of the battle’s roar, man;
With pipe in hand, he gives command,
And thus he lives twice o’er man!