804 TOBACCO TOBACCO
He who doth not smoke hath either known no great griefs, or refuseth himself the softest consolation, next to that which comes from heaven.
Bulwer-Lytton—What Will He Do With It? Bk. I. Ch.VI.
Woman in this scale, the weed in that, Jupiter,
hang out thy balance, and weigh them both; and
if thou give the preference to woman, all I can
say is, the next time Juno ruffles thee—O Jupiter,
try the weed.
Bulwee-Lttton—What Will He Do With It?
Bk.I. Ch.VI.
Tobacco, divine, rare superexcellent tobacco,
which goes far beyond all panaceas, potable gold
and philosopher's stones, a sovereign remedy to
all diseases.
| author = Burton
| work = Anatomy of Melancholy.
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| topic = Tobacco
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{{Hoyt quote
| num = 1
| text = After, he had administer'd a dose
Of snuff mundungus to his nose;
And powder'd th' inside of his skull,
Instead of th' outward jobbernol,
He shook it with a scornful look
On th' adversary, and thus he spoke.
Butler—Hudibras. Pt. III. Canto II. L.
1,005.
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| topic = Tobacco
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{{Hoyt quote
| num = 5
| text = 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 hookas, 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!
Byron—The Island. Canto II. St. 19.
Contented I sit with my pint and my pipe,
Puffing sorrow and care far away,
And surely the brow of grief nothing can wipe,
Like smoking and moist'ning our clay;
- * * * *
For tho' at my simile many may joke,
Man is but a pipe—and his life but smoke.
Content and a Pipe. Old ballad.
The pipe, with solemn interposing puff,
Makes half a sentence at a time enough;
The dozing sages drop the drowsy strain,
Then pause, and puff—and speak, and pause
again.
| author = Cowper
| work = Conversation. L. 245.
Pernicious weed! whose scent the fair annoys
Unfriendly to society's chief joys.
Thy worst effect is banishing for hours
The sex whose presence civilizes ours.
| author = Cowper
| work = Conversation. L. 251.
The Indian weed, withered quite,
Green at noon, cut down at night,
Shows thy decay.
All flesh is hay.
Thus think, then drink tobacco.
- * * *
And when the smoke ascends on high,
Then thou behold'st vanity
Of worldly stuff,
Gone at a puff.
Thus think, then drink tobacco.
Attributed to Eesktne—Gospel Sonnets.
Meditations on Tobacco. Pt. I. Printed in
a Collection Two Broadsides against Tobacco.
(1672) Erskine claimed only Pt. II. Pt. I. is from an old poem.
| seealso = (See also {{sc|Scott, G. W.)
Tobacco, an outlandish weed,
Doth in the land strange wonders breed;
It taints the breath, the blood it dries,
It burns the head, it blinds the eyes;
It dries the lungs, scourgeth the lights,
It 'numbs the soul, it dulls the sprites;
It brings a man into a maze,
And makes him sit for others' gaze;
It mars a man, it mars a purse,
A lean one fat, a fat one worse;
A white man black, a black man white,
A night a day, a day. a night;
It turns the brain like cat in pan,
And makes a Jack a gentleman.
Fatrholt—J. Payne Collier's MS.
With pipe and book at close of day,
Oh, what is sweeter? mortal say.
It matters not what book on knee,
Old Isaak or the Odyssey,
It matters not meerschaum or clay.
Richard Le Galltenne. In Volumes in
Folio. See Cope's Smoker's Garland.
Tobacco is a traveler.
Come from the Indies hither;
It passed sea and land
Ere it came to my hand,
And 'scaped the wind and weather.
Tobacco's a musician,
And in a pipe delighteth;
It descends in a close,
Through the organ of the nose,
With a relish that inviteth.
Barten Holiday—Texnotamia. (1630)
| topic = Tobacco
| page = 804
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{{Hoyt quote
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| text = <poem>Some sigh for this and that;
My wishes don't go far;
The world may wag at will,
So I have my cigar.
Hood—The Cigar.
Neither do thou lust after that tawney weed tobacco.
Ben Jonson—Bartholomew Fair. Act II.
Sc.6.
Ods me I marie what pleasure or felicity they
have in taking their roguish tobacco. It is good
for nothing but to choke a man, and fill him full of smoke and embers.
Ben Jonson—Every Man in His Humour.
Act III. Sc. 2.
And a woman is only a woman, but a good
cigar is a smoke.
Kipling—The Betrothed.
