400   Pipe and Can


THE Indian weed witheràed quite;
Green at morn, cut down at night;
Shows thy decay: all flesh is hay:
     Thus think, then drink Tobacco.

And when the smoke ascends on high,
Think thou behold’st the vanity
Of worldly stuff, gone with a puff:
     Thus think, then drink Tobacco.

But when the pipe grows foul within,
Think of thy soul defiled with sin,
And that the fire doth it require:
     Thus think, then drink Tobacco.

The ashes, that are left behind,
May serve to put thee still in mind
That unto dust return thou must:
      Thus think, then drink Tobacco.


WHEN as the chill Charokko1 blows,
   And Winter tells a heavy tale;
When pyes and daws and rooks and crows
Sit cursing of the frosts and snows;
          Then give me ale.

Ale in a Saxon rumkin then,
   Such as will make grimalkin prate;
Bids valour burgeon in tall men,
Quickens the poet’s wit and pen,
          Despises fate.

Ale, that the absent battle fights,
   And frames the march of Swedish drum,
Disputes with princes, laws, and rights,
What’s done and past tells mortal wights,
          And what’s to come.

Ale, that the plowman’s heart up-keeps
   And equals it with tyrants’ thrones,
That wipes the eye that over-weeps,
And lulls in sure and dainty sleeps
          Th’ o’er-wearied bones.

Grandchild of Ceres, Bacchus’ daughter,
   Wine’s emulous neighbour, though but stale,
Ennobling all the nymphs of water,
And filling each man’s heart with laughter—
          Ha! give me ale!

401   Love will find out the Way

OVER the mountains
   And over the waves,
Under the fountains
   And under the graves;
Under floods that are deepest,
   Which Neptune obey,
Over rocks that are steepest,
   Love will find out the way.

When there is no place
   For the glow-worm to lie,
When there is no space
   For receipt of a fly;
When the midge dares not venture
   Lest herself fast she lay,
If Love come, he will enter
   And will find out the way.

You may esteem him
   A child for his might;
Or you may deem him
   A coward for his flight;
But if she whom Love doth honour
   Be conceal’d from the day—
Set a thousand guards upon her,
   Love will find out the way.

Some think to lose him
   By having him confined;
And some do suppose him,
   Poor heart! to be blind;
But if ne’er so close ye wall him,
   Do the best that ye may,
Blind Love, if so ye call him,
   He will find out his way.

You may train the eagle
   To stoop to your fist;
Or you may inveigle
   The Phœnix of the east;
The lioness, you may move her
   To give over her prey;
But you’ll ne’er stop a lover—
   He will find out the way.

If the earth it should part him,
   He would gallop it o’er;
If the seas should o’erthwart him,
   He would swim to the shore;
Should his Love become a swallow,
   Through the air to stray,
Love will lend wings to follow,
   And will find out the way.

  By PanEris using Melati.

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