Borne from a short frail pipe which yet had blown Its gentle odours over either zone, And, puff’d where’er winds rise or waters roll, Had wafted smoke from Portsmouth to the Pole, Opposed its vapour as the lightning flash’d, And reek’d, midst mountain-billows unabash’d, To Æolus a constant sacrifice, Thro’ every change of all the varying skies. And what was he who bore it? I may err, But deem him sailor or philosopher. SUBLIME TOBACCO! which from East to West Cheers the tar’s labour or the Turkman’s rest; Which on the Moslem’s ottoman divides His hours, and rivals opium and his brides; Magnificent in Stamboul, but less grand, Though not less loved, in Wapping or the Strand; Divine in hookahs, glorious in a pipe, When tipp’d with amber, mellow, rich, and ripe; Like other charmers, wooing the caress, More dazzlingly when daring in full dress; Yet thy true lovers more admire by far Thy naked beauties――give me a cigar! _The Island._ ―――― A SHIELD OF ADAMANT. For lack o’ Tobacco, I’d die; For cigars O! my stars, How I cry! For a smoke is the shield Before which troubles yield―― Enabling us cares to defy! E. H. S. ――――:o:―――― EPITAPH _On a young lady who desired that Tobacco might be planted over her grave._ Let no cold marble o’er my body rise―― But only earth above, and sunny skies. Thus would I lowly lie in peaceful rest, Nursing the Herb Divine from out my breast. Green let it grow above this clay of mine, Deriving strength from strength that I resign. So in the days to come, when I’m beyond This fickle life, will come my lovers fond, And gazing on the plant, their grief restrain In whispering, “Lo! dear Anna blooms again!” [Illustration] POEMS ON THE PIPE. Hail! social pipe――thou foe to care, Companion of my elbow chair; As forth thy curling fumes arise, They seem an evening sacrifice―― An offering to my Maker’s praise, For all His benefits and grace. DR. GARTH. SONNET TO A PIPE. (1690.) “Doux charme de ma solitude, Brulante pipe, ardent fourneau! Qui purges d’humeur mon cerveau, Et mon esprit d’inquiétude. Tabac! dont mon ame est ravie, Lorsque je te vois te perdre en l’air, Aussi promptement q’un éclair, Je vois l’image de ma vie; Tu remets dans mon souvenir, Ce qu’un jour je dois devenir, N’étant qu’une cendre animée; Et tout d’un coup je m’aperçoi, Que courant après ta fumée, Je passe de même que toi.” Attributed to _Esprit de Raymond, Comte de Modène_. _Translation of the above._ “Sweet smoking pipe, bright glowing stove, Companion still of my retreat, Thou dost my gloomy thoughts remove, And purge my brain with gentle heat.