The the confessions of a smoker [sic] / by an Octogenarian.

  • Octogenarian.
Date:
[Between 1860 and 1869?]
Catalogue details

Licence: Public Domain Mark

Credit: The the confessions of a smoker [sic] / by an Octogenarian. Source: Wellcome Collection.

    2/4
    They might have better called me king, For well I conquered, well I won, The mastery of every thing By smokers prized, by smokers done ; Nor failed through nose and ears to swing The twirling smoke in manly (?) fun. And well I learnt the parrot cries The smokers make their chief defence,— “ Soothes the brain,” kills moths and flies,” “ Hunger lulls,” “ odours bad drive hence,” The doctor says, “ It would be wise,” “ Why is it sent ? ” 0 ! vain pretence. Then how the smoke reveals its place, (The smoker can’t conceal his deed) Stale fumes remain, and and leave their trace In scented garments, rarely freed From odious smells, in time or space, So vile the outcome of that greed. And viler still its inner force, As slowly it unnerves the man ; While all unconscious of his loss, He careless grows, nor heeds the pain That harries on his downward course To utter selfishness and shame ! Can mind conceive, or words pourtray The nation’s loss of wealth untold ? Time, thought, and health, all flung away ; SELF first and last, with iron hold Can tyranny more subtle sway— More rude, defiant, shameless, bold ? Shameless, bold, all law defying ; “ Smoking is not permitted here.” “ Bosh, who cares for that ? ” denying Rights and claims to others dear. So, through clouds of smoke most trying, Through sickening fumes we blindly steer. ’Twere well did selfish man alone, Endure the burden of his thrall, Not then would loathsomeness be thrown On WOMAN—the fairest of them all— Alas, they must in silence moan, And bear the smoker’s reeking gall.