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Various

"Pipe and Pouch The Smoker's Own Book of Poetry"


Then I come and write beneath:
Boughton, he deserves the wreath;
He can give us form and hue--
This the Muse can never do!
AUSTIN DOBSON.


THE DISCOVERY OF TOBACCO.
_A SAILOR'S VERSION_.

They were three jolly sailors bold,
Who sailed across the sea;
They'd braved the storm, and stood the gale,
And got to Virgin-ee.


THE DISCOVERY OF TOBACCO.

'Twas in the days of good Queen Bess,--
Or p'raps a bit before,--
And now these here three sailors bold
Went cruising on the shore.
A lurch to starboard, one to port,
Now forrard, boys, go we,
With a haul and a "Ho!" and a "That's your sort!"
To find out Tobac-kee.
Says Jack, "This here's a rummy land."
Says Tom, "Well, shiver me!
The sun shines out as precious hot
As ever I did see."
Says Dick, "Messmates, since here we be,"--
And gave his eye a wink,--
"We've come to find out Tobac-kee,
Which means a drop to drink."
Says Jack, says he, "The Injins think--"
Says Tom, "I'll swear as they
Don't think at all." Says Dick, "You're right;
It ain't their nat'ral way.
But I want to find out, my lads,
This stuff of which they tell;
For if as it ain't meant to drink,
Why, it must be meant to smell.


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