There’s sweet tobacco here, of every kind, Sweeter than honey in the hollow tree, Or sugar in the sugar-cane, you’ll find, Or dew-drop in the hollyhock can be; Cigars whose smoke floats lightly round the eye, As round the buttercup the butterfly; Cigars that one would die to smoke, then smoke to die! Here lie long-nines beside, And plugs no teeth have ever tried, And all the earth is snuff too, far and wide, And in the craggy rocks the cigarettos hide! II. Why leave dry land to sail on boiling water? Why make our short lives, any longer, shorter By still debating, while the minutes flee? All folks smoke here; why only smoke not we?―― We who have smoked vile smoke as e’er was known, And chewed vile chews on land and sea, Still from a bad one to a worse one thrown! Nor ever end our woes, By snuffing up the nose, Nor yield our senses to the potent spell; Nor hearken to the song that o’er us goes; “No joy that tongue can tell Is like what enters thro’ the avenue of smell!” III. Hateful is the pea-green sky, Hanging o’er the pea-green sea―― Life ends in smoke, oh! why Should life all labor be? Let us alone. We do not want to go! Since life’s a vapor, smoke it all away! Let us alone. We have no strength to row, We won’t attempt it, anyhow, to-day. Let us alone. What fun can sailors find In climbing up a wave, and down behind? All folks have rest excepting only tars, Their work is always of the endless kind;―― Give us a smoke or sleep, sound sleep or good cigars! IV. How sweet it were, seeing the rising fog, With half-cigar and half a smile, Dozing in a half-and-half the while, To dream and dream like yonder aged frog, Which only leaves his hole, the smoky log, To muse amid abandoned stumps near by; Chewing Tobacco, here to lie And see the waves rush up, our joy to share, Clutching with eager arms the vacant air, To grasp the sweets the scented breezes bear; To give our minds up to it wholly, To chase away blue-thoughted melancholy, To put rich flavorous, antique fine-cut tobacco, Into these pipes by steady use grown blacker; Pressed down with thumb to make it stay; Two pinches of black dust shut in a bowl of clay. V.