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 its train. 
Foolish I was: Manillas I disdained,
  And cigarettes to Burmahs did prefer, 
And even spumed Havana'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.

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