When Cupid open'd shop, the trade he chose

Was just the very one you might suppose.

Love keep a shop?--his trade, oh! quickly name!

A dealer in tobacco--fie, for shame!

No less than true, and set aside all joke,

From oldest time he ever dealt in smoke;

Than smoke, no other thing he sold, or made;

Smoke all the substance of his stock in trade;

His capital all smoke, smoke all his store,

'Twas nothing else; but lovers ask no more--

And thousands enter daily at his door!

Hence it was ever, and it e'er will be

The trade most suited to his faculty:

Fed by the vapors of their heart's desire,

No other food his votaries require;

For that they seek--the favor of the fair--

Is unsubstantial as the smoke and air.

JACOB CATS: _Moral Emblems_.