ANONYMOUS
The ashes, that are left behind, May serve to put thee still in mind That unto dust return thou must:
Thus think, then drink Tobacco.
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WHEN as the chill Charokko blows, And Winter tells a heavy tale; When pyes and daws and rooks and crows Sit cursing of the frosts and snows; Then give me ale.
AJe in a Saxon rumkin then,
Such as will make grimalkin prate; Bids valour burgeon in tall men, Quickens the poet's wit and pen, Despises fate.
Ale, that the absent battle fights,
And frames the march of Swedish drum, Disputes with princes, laws, and rights, What 's done and past tells mortal wights, And what 's to come.
Ale, that the plowman's heart up-keeps
And equals it with tyrants' thrones, That wipes the eye that over-weeps, And lulls in sure and dainty sleeps Th' o'er-wcaried bones.
Charokko] Scirocco.
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