'Tis not for me to sing thy praise alone,
Where'er the merchant spreads his wind-bleach'd sails;
Wherever social intercourse is known,
There too thy credit, still the theme prevails.
The bearded Turk, majestically grand,
In high divan upholds the jointed reeds;
And clearer reasons on the case in hand,
Till opposition to his lore concedes.
Thy potent charms delight the nabob's taste,
Fixt on his elephant (half reasoning beast);
He twines the gaudy hookah round his waist,
And puffs thy incense to the breezy east.
The grave Bavarian, midst his half year's frost,
Delights to keep thy ruby fins awake;
And as in traffic's maze his fancy's tost,
Light skims the icy surface of the lake.
The Indian Sachem at his wigwam-gate,
By chiefs surrounded when the warfare ends,
Seated in all the pomp of savage state,
Circles the calumet[7] to cheer his friends.
The Frenchman loves thee in another way,
He grinds thy leaves to make him scented snuff;
Boasts of improvements, and presumes to say,
France still the polish gives and we the _rough_.
Still let him boast, nor put John Bull to shame,
His Gascon tales shall Englishmen divert;
France for her trifles has been _dear_ to fame,
From her the ruffle sprung, from us the shirt.
The lib'ral Spaniard and the Portuguese,
Spread richest dainties brought from realms afar;
Nor think their festive efforts form'd to please,
Unless redundant breathes the light cigar.
So when our Druids inspiration sought,
They burnt the misletoe to fume around;
Th' inspiring vapours gave a strength to thought,
They dealt out lore impressive and profound.
Methinks I see them with the mental eye,
I hear their lessons with attention's ear;
Of early fishing with the summer fly,
And many a pleasing tale to anglers dear.
The while they draw from the inspiring weed,
They boast a charm the smoker owns supreme;
And now diverted with the polish'd reed,
Forego the little fish-house by the stream.
Tho' this be fancy, still it serves to shew,
That Wisdom's sons have lov'd Columbia's pride;
And shall, while waters round our island flow,
Tho' fools and fops its healing breath deride.
Mem'ry still hold me in thy high esteem,
For lonely setting upon the day's decline;
Visions sublime, before my fancy gleam,
And rich ideas from her stores combine.
_The Social Pipe._