A SONG WITHOUT A NAME.

'Twas in Queen Bess's golden days That smoking came in fashion; And from the court it quickly spread Throughout the English nation. The courtiers first the lesson learnt, And burn'd the fragrant treasure; And e'en the queen herself, 'tis said, Would sometimes share the pleasure. But this is true, I will maintain,— And I am far from joking,— Of all the pleasures men have found There's none to equal smoking. Then learned men and lawyers wise And grave divines and doctors Found smoking help'd to clear the brain, And puff'd away in flocks, sirs; Then business men and humble clerks And laborer and peasant By smoking care would drive away, And make this life more pleasant. For this is true. I will maintain,— And I am far from joking,— Of all the pleasures men have found There's none to equal smoking. And from these times we modern men Great glory do inherit, And wealth and learning and the strength Which makes the English spirit. We have no care, we fear no foe, We pass our lifetime gayly, But little think how much we owe To great Sir Walter Raleigh. For this is true, I will maintain,— And I am far from joking,— Of all the pleasures men have found There's none to equal smoking.