TOBACCO LEAVES 



Fill the bowl, you jolly soul, 

 And burn all sorrow to a coal. 



A weed you call me, but you'll own 

 No rose was e'er more fully blown. 



Behold ! This vessel hath a moral got : 

 Tobacco smokers all must go to pot. 



Your pipe's your friend ! 



A greater friend am I; 

 For in itself that friend will lack 



What I supply. 



" Man's life is but a vapour ! " 



Believe me or not I most truly contain 

 A soother of woe and an easer of pain! 



Great Jove Pandora's box with jars did 



fill 

 This jar alone has power those jars to 



still. 

 120 



