One of my friends quoted this verse in an email and I thought why shouldn't I share it with you all! I do not know the name of the poet but it appears to be the artifact of Nazeer Akbarabadi?
TUMBAKOO KA JO SHAKHS TALABGAAR NA HO GA
MEHSHAR MEIN KHUDA KA USSE DEEDAR NA HO GA!!
Carpe diem!!
PS: I rechecked and found that this sher actually says as under::
Huqqay ka jo dunya mein talabgaar na ho ga
Mehshar mein Khuda ka usay deedaar na ho ga.
by Unknown.
Here are some more Quotes about Tobacco!!
Enjoy!
"My Lord, this sacred herbe which never offendit,
Is forced to crave your favor to defend it."
Barclay.
"But oh, what witchcraft of a stronger kind,
Or cause too deep for human search to find,
Makes earth-born weeds imperial man enslave,—
Not little souls, but e'en the wise and brave!"
Arbuckle.
HARTFORD, CONN.:
AMERICAN PUBLISHING COMPANY,
1875.
Entered according to act of Congress, in the year 1875, by the
AMERICAN PUBLISHING CO.,
In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington, D.C.
Is it not wondrous strange that there should be
Such different tempers twixt my friend and me?
I burn with heat when I tobacco take,
But he on th' other side with cold doth shake:
To both 'tis physick, and like physick works,
The cause o' th' various operation lurks
Not in tobacco, which is still the same,
But in the difference of our bodies frame:
What's meat to this man, poison is to that,
And what makes this man lean, makes that man fat;
What quenches one's thirst, makes another dry;
And what makes this man wel, makes that man dye.
Thomas Washbourne, D. D.
Thy quiet spirit lulls the lab'ring brain,
Lures back to thought the flights of vacant mirth,
Consoles the mourner, soothes the couch of pain,
And wreathes contentment round the humble hearth;
While savage warriors, soften'd by thy breath,
Unbind the captive, hate had doomed to death.
Rev. Walter Colton.
Whate'er I do, where'er I be,
My social box attends on me;
It warms my nose in winter's snow,
Refreshes midst midsummer's glow;
Of hunger sharp it blunts the edge,
And softens grief as some alledge.
Thus, eased of care or any stir,
I broach my freshest canister;
And freed from trouble, grief, or panic,
I pinch away in snuff balsamic.
For rich or poor, in peace or strife,
It smooths the rugged path of life.
Rev. William King.
Hail! Indian plant, to ancient times unknown—
A modern truly thou, and all our own!
Thou dear concomitant of nappy ale,
Thou sweet prolonger of an old man's tale.
Or, if thou'rt pulverized in smart rappee,
And reach Sir Fopling's brain (if brain there be),
He shines in dedications, poems, plays,
Soars in Pindarics, and asserts the bays;
Thus dost thou every taste and genius hit—
In smoke thou'rt wisdom, and in snuff thou'rt wit.
Rev. Mr. Prior.
TO
CHARLES DUDLEY WARNER,
Whose rare, good gifts have endeared him to all lovers of the English tongue, this volume, historically and practically treating of one of the greatest of plants, as well as the rarest of luxuries, is respectfully dedicated by
Billing
on eTI community..
