Nicotianae Encomium; Or, The GOLDEN LEAF Ta— Ab Insula Tabacco ubi provenit rectiùs (ni fallor) scribitur quam To— TABACCO Display'd in its Soveraignty and singular Vertues.
YE Hot! ye Cold! ye Rheumatick! draw nigh;
In this Rich Leafe a Soveraign Dose doth lie
Will cure ye All; Physick ye need not want,
Here 'tis i'th' Gummy Entralls of a Plant.
To purge the Breast from Flegm, to give a Stoole
To costive Bodies, glowing Veins to coole;
To rouse up Spirits, and chill Blood to heat,
To raise the Pulse, and make it nimbly beat;
Each Joynt and Nerve (from Head to Foot) to warme
With Active Vigour—Her's your Powerful Charme!
And if th' Grand Bugbear-Toad, the Plague, ye fear,
Lo! under God, your Antidote is here.
Brave Leafe! thou act's the Able Doctor's Part,
In thee there's wrapt an Aesculapian Art.
Thou
Ʋt Dei Ministra, non adulterata, & modicè sumpta.
frights Infection, bribes our Fatal Doomes,Prolongs our Lives, and saves us from our Tombes,
Persumes our Throats, our Mouths, our Cloaths, our Rooms:
Thou Sleep procures, and rock'st our Cradle-Beds,
Still'st aching Teeth, and cures our aching Heads;
'Tis Salve, no Smoak sure, which thy Chimney sheads.
Thy Juice ('tis said) Medicinal is found,
It heals (tho' poyson'd) any bleeding Wound:
Then such as would Extemp're-Surg'ons be,
Must not Box-up, but only Bottle Thee;
Not dry thy Leafe, but Drain't (this understood
Prevents abuse) for them thy Liquor's good.
A Vomit-Broome made of thy Syrupe, sweeps
(When foule) and clean the Stomack's Kitchen keeps:
Cookes! think of this; ye are by right (ye see)
No Smoakers, but as Chimny-Sweepers be;
To clear your Cook-Roomes from Diseased Dust,
Or make or buy Tabacco-Broomes ye must.
Now for your use, I think they might do well,
If some would Cry'om, others keep to Sell:
So 'bout this Oake, like Ivy might ye twist,
And each Bro' live on's Bro'—Tabaconist.
Nee'r fear to Break, ye 'Prentices to th' Trade!
Your Leaf may Wither, but it cannot Fade:
By Whole-sale, Re-tale vend your Hearb; the while
Let some Sail o're to the Tabakian I'le;
There Plant, and Reape, and fill their builded Cribbs,
And others mince Her Broad Transported Ribbs:
Here starts a Paradox; — Thus some that do
No Purses take, may live by Cutting tho'.
Then fill your Boxes, store your Shops anew,
And Pipe, and Dance, and Sing, ye Jolly Crew!
For whilst ye joyne, and each Man drives his Trade,
Tho' your Leaf Wither, yet it shall not Fade;
But Coyn shall Court y [...], and ye shall go Brave,
As Merchants do that many Factors have,
And all have Cause to cry—O Vertue rare!
What Other Leaf may with Our Leaf Compare?
Brave Leaf! thou acts the Able Doctor's Part,
In thee ther's wrapt an Aesculapian Art.
Thy Bowels Soveraign Balsame drop, when burn'd,
And thou art good to Dust and Ashes turn'd;
Thy Sneezing Powder has the art to drain
From all Rheumatick Humours, Head and Brain,
Which trickle down, as Water from the Rose,
Through th'open Conduits of the Mouth and Nose.
Come Distillations! Tissicks! Coughs! Catharres!
All Colds, all Moisture's Off-spring! that make Warrs.
With Eyes, Gummes, Lungs; Diseases—Hydra! bow
Thy Neck to th'Block, expect the Fatal Blow:
Tabacco! here behold this Monster lie,
With Apron and with Butcher-Sleeves draw nigh,
Strike with thy Smoakey Axe! Strike! strike! —'tis done!
The Blow is given, off the Heads are gone!
Great Creature-Word! Who can thy Letters tell!
Or knowledge has thy Syllables to spell!
Those choice Effects thy Vertue yet affords
Swell much beyond the narrow Graspe of Words:
I faulter here; — Thy Depths are too profound
For Reason, and her Line too short to sound
Or fathome'om; how can my Heart endite
Thy hidden Secrets! or thy praises write
How can my ABC and short-sighted Quill!
This claimes some Rabby's,—yea an Angel's skill.
The Quickest Artist verst in Nature's Mine,
May sooner read a Sybil's Leafe than Thine.
If so, how high doth Natures Folio swel!
If little Words, large pages sure excel
The strength and stature of the tallest Sage,
With which no Mortal's able to engage:
Sure these Goliaths with their Spear and Shield
Challenge the stoutest David into th' Field.
What's th' Bark to th' Tree! can none peruse or look
The Covers o're! who then can read the Book!
What e're the Heav'ns contain, or Earthly Ball,
Perspectives are to view Man's All in All,
Faire Copys of that Great ORIGINAL:
Straight Lines which in this Center are connext,
Sermons that Comment on this Sacred Text.
Even here the Learn'd of Learning see their want,
By knowledge learn to know they're ignorant.
My Muse was nipt i'th' Bud; a Poet's Name
Belongs to such whose True-bred Genius flame,
As Lackey by His Side this Rush shall run,
Whose Taper-Muse is lighted at the SuN:
With brighter Beams some Noble Sol might grace
This Subject, and my Luna's spotted face.
Rise [...]is Orbe, Brave Luminary! mine
Shall quickly Set, and give You room to Shine:
Mean time, this Starre, as Harbenger of Day,
Shall March before Your more Refulgent Ray.
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