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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