Sweet is the Rose's scent—Tobacco's smell
Is sweeter—wherefore let me charge again.
Old blackened meerschaum, I have loved thee well
From youth, when smoke brought sickness in
Foolish I was, Manillas I disdained,
And cigarettes to Burmahs did prefer,
And even spurned Havanna's fragrant joy;
But now my mind is pained,
In that my smoking days I did defer
Nor knew this pleasure when I was a boy.