Let others sing the praise of wine;

I'll tolerate no queen

But one fair nymph of spotless line,

The gentle Nicotine.

Her breath's as sweet as any flower's,

No matter where it blows,

And makes this dull old world of ours

The color of the rose.

There's not a pang but she can soothe,

Nor spell but she can break,

And e'en the hardest lot can smooth,

And bid us courage take.

Fair Nicotine! thou dost atone

For many an aching heart;

And I for one will gladly own

The magic of thine art.

Ah, "friendly traitress," "loving foe,"

Forgive this loving lay;

For I, thy worshipper, would show

The sweetness of thy sway.

"Sublime tobacco!" may thy reign

Ne'er for one moment cease;

For thou, Great Plant, art kin to brain,

And synonym for peace.