Meditation on Smoking

Hphis Indian weed now wither’d quite,
-* Thcf green at noon, cut down at night,
Shows thy decay;
All flesh is hay.
Thus think, and smoke tobacco.

The pipe so lily-like and weak,
Does thus thy mortal state bespeak.
Thou art ev’n such,
Gone with a touch.
Thus think, and smoke tobacco.

And when the smoke ascends on high.
Then thou behpld’sf the vanity
Of worldly stuff,
Gone with a puff.
Thus think, anil smoke tobacco,

And when the pipe grows foul within,
Think on thy soul detii’d with sin;
For tlu-n the fire
It does require.
Thus think, and smoke tobacco.

And seest the ashes cast away:
Then to thyself thou mayest say,

That to the dust

Return thou must.
Thus think, and smoke tobacco.

PART II.

Was this small plant for thee cut down?
So was the Plant of great renown;
Which mercy sends
For nobler ends.
Thus think, and smoke tobacco,

Doth juice medicinal proceed
From such a naughty foreign weed?

Then what’s the pow’r

Of Jesse’s flow’r?
Thus think, and smoke tobacco*

The promise, like the pipe, inlays,
And by the mouth of faith conveys
What virtue flows
From Sharon’s Rose,
Thus think, and smoke tobacco.

In vain, th* unlighted pipe you blow;
Your pains in outward means are so,
Till heav’nly fire
Your heart inspire.
Thus think, and smoke tobacco.

The smoke, like burning incense, tow’ra.; So should a praying heart of yours

With ardent cries

Surmount the skies.
Thus thiukj and smoke tobacco.

A POEM,

By a Lady of New England, on reading Mr. ErsMnea Gospel Sonnets.

I^RSKIXE, thou blessed herald, sound -^ Til! sin’s black empire totter to the ground. Well hast thou Sinai’s awful flames display’d, And rebels doom before their conscience laid From sin, from self, from trust in duty fly, Commit thy naked soul to Christ, or die. Go on and prosper in the name of God, Seraphic preacher, through the thorny road; The gracious Christ thy labours will reward: His angel bands be thy perpetual guard; Though hell’s dark regions at the present hiss, The God of glory thy strong refuge is. Mere moral preachers have no power to charm, Thy lines are such my nobler passions warm; These glorious truths have set my soul on lire, And while I read, I’m love and pure desire. May the black train of errors hatch’d in hell No longer on this globe in quiet dwell; May more like you be rais’d to show their shame, And call them by their diabolic name. Exalt the Lamb in lovely white and red, Angels and saints his lasting honours spread; My trembling soul shall bear her feeble part, ‘Tis he hath charm’d my soul and won my heart, Bless’d be the Father for electing love, Bless’d be the Son who does my guilt remove, Bless’d be th Dove who does his grace apply. Oh! may 1 praising live, and praising die!

ACROSTIC.

M UCH fam’d on earth, renownVl for piety; A midst bright seraphs nows sings cheerfully* S acred thine ampins yield much pleasure here: T hese songs of thine do truly charm the ear*, E ach line thou wrot’st ‘oth admiration raise; R ouse up the soul to true seraphic praise.

R eligiously thy life below was spent: A mazing pleasures now thy soul content. L ong didst thou labour in the church below; P ointingoutChrist, the Lamb who saves from wo // eavVs blessedness on sinners to bestow.

y

E rskine the great! whose pen spread far abroad,

/? edeeming love; the sole device of God;

S ubstantial themes thy thoughts did much pursue;

Kept pure the truth, espous’d but by a few.

J ntegrity of heart, of soul serene;

Aro friend to vice, no cloke to the profane:

E mploy’d thy talents to reclaim the vain. J

* Alluding to his poetical pieces.