Smiling years that gayly run
Round the Zodiack with the fun,
Tell, if ever you have seen
Realms fo quiet and ferene.
* This imitation was fupplyed, and the plan fuggefted, by dr. John Hoadley. See abp. Herrings “ Ļetters to W. Duncombe, efg." p. 33.
And thy fnowy taper waist,
With my finger gently brac'd;
And thy pretty fwelling creft,
With my little ftopper preft,
And the sweetest blifs of bliffes,
Breathing from thy balmy kifles.
Happy thrice, and thrice agen,
Happiest he of happy men ;
Who when agen the night returns,
When agen the taper burns ;
When agen the cricket's gay,
(Little cricket, full of play)
Can afford his tube to feed,
With the fragrant INDIAN weed:
Pleasure for a nose divine,
Incense of the god of wine.
Happy thrice and thrice agen,
Happiest he of happy men.
-Prorumpit ad æthera nubem.
Turbine fumantem piceo.
Thou, matur'd by glad Hesperian funs, TOBACCO, fountain pure of limpid truth,
a Poem on Liberty, ver. 12.
That looks the very foul; whence pouring thought Swarms all the mind; abforpt is yellow care,
And at each puff imagination burus.
Flash on thy bard, and with exalting fires,
Touch the mysterious lip, that chaunts thy praise
In ftrains to mortal fons of earth unknown.
Behold an engine, wrought from tawny mines
Of ductile clay, with plaflic virtue form'd,
And glaz'd magnifick o'er, I grafp, I fill.
From & Patotheke with pungent pow'rs perfum'd,
Itself one tortoise all, where shines imbib'd,
Each parent ray; then rudely ram'd illume,
With the red touch of zeal-enkindling sheet,
Mark'd with Gibsonian lorer forth iffue clouds,
Thought-thrilling, thirft-inciting clouds around,
And many-mining fires: I all the while,
Lolling at ease, & inhale the breezy balm.
But chief, when Bacchus wont with thee to join 20
In genial ftrife and orthodoxal ale,
Stream life and joy into the Muses bowl,
Oh be thou ftill my great inspirer, thou
My Mufe; oh fan with me thy zephyrs boon,
While I, in clouded tabernacle shrin'd,
Burft forth all oracle and mystick fong.
c Ibid. ver. 104. e Poem on Liberty, ver. g Ibid. ver. 309. h Ibid.
Pagina turgefcat, dare pondus idonea fumo. PERS.
CRITICKS avaunt; TOBACCO is my theme;
Tremble like hornets at the blafting fteam.
And you, court-infects, flutter not too near
Its light, nor buzz within the fcorching fphere.
POLLIO, with flame like thine, my verse inspire, 5
So fhall the Mufe from fmoke elicit fire.
Coxcombs prefer the tickling fting of fnuff;
Yet all their claim to wisdom is—a puff:
Lord FOP IN fmokes not-for his teeth afraid :
Sir TAWDRY fmokes not-for he wears brocade. 10
Ladies, when pipes are brought, affect to fwoon;
They love no fmoke, except the smoke of town:
But courtiers hate the puffing tribe,—no matter,
Strange if they love the breath that cannot flatter!
Its foes but fhew their ignorance; can he
Who fcorns the leaf of knowledge, love the tree?
The tainted templar (more prodigious yet)
Rails at TOBACCO, tho' it makes him-spit.
CITRONIA VOws it has an odious stink;
She will not (moke (ye gods!) but he will drink: 20 VOL. II.
And chafte PRUDELLA (blame her if you can) Says, pipes are us'd by that vile creature Man: Yet crouds remain, who still its worth proclaim, While fome for pleasure, smoke and some for fame: Fame, of our actions universal spring,
For which we drink, eat, fleep, smoke,-ev'ry thing.
BLEST leaf! whose aromatick gales dispense
To templars modefty, to parfons sense:
So raptur'd priefts, at fam'd DODONA's fhrine,
Drank inspiration from the fteam divine.
Poison that cures, a vapour that affords
Content, more folid than the fmile of lords:
Reft to the weary, to the hungry food,
The laft kind refuge of the WISE and GOOD.
Infpir'd by thee, dull cits adjuft the scale
Of Europe's peace, when other statesmen fail.
By thee protected, and thy fifter, beer,
Poets rejoice, nor think the bailiff near.
Nor less the critick owns thy genial aid,
While fupperlefs he plies the piddling trade.
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