Pipe Smoke Rising

You may speak of your potions

With ardent devotion

Those mighty concotions

As downward they flow

But I'll do you one better

Then Whiskey or Porter

That's stronger to savor

as Everyman knows

What is incense for tounges

And keeps Italians young?

What will cheer both your lungs

and your broken heart glad?

You'll be tasting the stuff

That gives storm clouds its fluff

When you take a puff

Of Tobacco my lad.