Smokin' that Pipe

This Indian weed now wither'd quite,
'Tho' 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 behold'st the vanity
 Of worldly stuff,
 Gone with a puff.
 Thus think, and smoke tobacco.

And when the pipe grows foul within,
Think on thy soul defil'd with sin;
 For then 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.

 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 inward means are so,
  'Till heav'nly fire
  Thy heart inspire.
  Thus think, and smoke tobacco.

The smoke, like burning incense tow'rs
So should a praying heart of yours,
 With ardent cries,
  Surmount the skies.
  Thus think, and smoke tobacco.

 -Ralph Erskine