Tobacco: Its History, Varieties, Culture and Manufacture

Thomas Washbourne, D. D

“My Lord, this sacred herbe which never offendit,
Is forced to crave your favor to defend it.”

Barclay.

“But oh, what witchcraft of a stronger kind,
Or cause too deep for human search to find,
Makes earth-born weeds imperial man enslave,—
Not little souls, but e’en the wise and brave!”

Arbuckle.

Thy quiet spirit lulls the lab’ring brain,
Lures back to thought the flights of vacant mirth,
Consoles the mourner, soothes the couch of pain,
And wreathes contentment round the humble hearth;
While savage warriors, soften’d by thy breath,
Unbind the captive, hate had doomed to death.

Rev. Walter Colton.

Whate’er I do, where’er I be,
My social box attends on me;
It warms my nose in winter’s snow,
Refreshes midst midsummer’s glow;
Of hunger sharp it blunts the edge,
And softens grief as some alledge.
Thus, eased of care or any stir,
I broach my freshest canister;
And freed from trouble, grief, or panic,
I pinch away in snuff balsamic.
For rich or poor, in peace or strife,
It smooths the rugged path of life.

Rev. William King.

Hail! Indian plant, to ancient times unknown—
A modern truly thou, and all our own!
Thou dear concomitant of nappy ale,
Thou sweet prolonger of an old man’s tale.
Or, if thou’rt pulverized in smart rappee,
And reach Sir Fopling’s brain (if brain there be),
He shines in dedications, poems, plays,
Soars in Pindarics, and asserts the bays;
Thus dost thou every taste and genius hit—
In smoke thou’rt wisdom, and in snuff thou’rt wit.

Rev. Mr. Prior.