A Pinch Of Snuff
Oh Snuff! our fashionable end and aim!
Strasburgh, Rappee, Dutch, Scotch! whate’er thy name!
Powder celestial! quintessence divine!
New joys entrance my soul, while thou art mine.
Who takes - who takes thee not? Where’er I range
I smell thy sweets from Pall Mall to the ‘Change.
By thee assisted, Ladies kill the day,
And breathe their scandal freely o’er their tea:
Nor less they prize thy virtues when in bed,
One pinch of thee revives the vapour’d head,
Removes the spleen, removes the qualmish fit,
And gives a brisker turn to female wit,
Warms in the nose, refreshes like the breeze,
Glows in the head, and tickles in the sneeze.
Without it, Tinsel, what would be thy lot?
What, but to strut neglected, and forgot.
What boots it for thee to have dipt thy hands.
In odours wafted from Arabian lands?
Ah! what avails thy scented solitaire,
Thy careless swing, and pertly-tripping air,
The crimson wash, that glows upon they face,
Thy modish hat, and coat that flames with lace!
In vain thy dress, in vain thy trimmings shine,
If the Parisian snuff-box be not thine.
Come to my nose, then, Snuff, nor come alone,
Bring Taste with thee, for taste is all thy own.
A Pinch Of Snuff - A poem published in Smoke Rings & Roundelays by Wilfred Partington.
A Pinch of Snuff was originally published in a book titled The Shrubs of Parnassus in 1760, written by J. Copywell, which was a pseudonym of William Woty.