Catches, canons and drinking songs
What ails you, ye smokers to boast of your weed,
as if nothing but that could be called “Good indeed”?
prithee hear me, I’ll tell you ’tis nothing but smoke,
a vapour as trifling and light as a joke,
the hop’s a fine plant, that in savour and smell
at ten pounds a hundred does the weed far excel.