Smoking Spiritualized

THIS Indian weed, now withered quite,Though green at noon, cut down at night,Shows thy decay;All flesh is hay:Thus think, and smoke tobacco.

The pipe so lily-like and weak,Does thus thy mortal state bespeak;Thou art e’en such,—Gone with a touch:Thus think, and smoke tobacco.

And when the smoke ascends on high,Then thou behold’st the vanityOf worldly stuff,Gone with a puff:Thus think, and smoke tobacco.

And when the pipe grows foul within,Think on thy soul defiled with sin;For then the fireIt does require:Thus think, and smoke tobacco.

And seest the ashes cast away,Then to thyself thou mayest say,That to the dustReturn thou must.Thus think, and smoke tobacco.

Was this small plant for thee cut down?So was the plant of great renown,Which Mercy sendsFor nobler ends.Thus think, and smoke tobacco.

Doth juice medicinal proceedFrom such a naughty foreign weed?Then what’s the powerOf Jesse’s flower?Thus think, and smoke tobacco.

The promise, like the pipe, inlays,And by the mouth of faith conveys,What virtue flowsFrom Sharon’s rose.Thus think, and smoke tobacco.

In vain the unlighted pipe you blow,Your pains in outward means are so,Till heavenly fireYour heart inspire.Thus think, and smoke tobacco.

The smoke, like burning incense, towers,So should a praying heart of yours,With ardent cries,Surmount the skies.Thus think, and smoke tobacco.