With Thee All Tales Are Sweet; Each

Fair Greece! Sad Relic Of Departed Worth! Immortal, Though No More! Though Fallen, Great!

Lord Of Himself; That Heritage Of Woe!

Though I Love My Country, I Do Not Love My Countrymen.

There Is No Instinct Like That Of The Heart.

Sublime Tobacco! Which From East To West, Cheers The Tar's Labour Or The Turkman's Rest; Which On The Moslem's Ottoman Divides His Hours, And Rivals Opium And His Brides; Magnificent In Stamboul, But Less Grand, Though Not Less Loved, In Wapping Or The Strand: Divine In Hookas, Glorious In A Pipe, When Tipp'd With Amber, Mellow, Rich, And Ripe; Like Other Charmers Wooing The Caress, More Dazzlingly When Daring In Full Dress; Yet Thy True Lovers More Admire By Far Thy Naked Beauties Give Me A Cigar!