_The River of Life_. T. CAMPBELL.

Yet Time, who changes all, had altered him
In soul and aspect as in age; years steal
Fire from the mind as vigor from the limb:
And life's enchanted cup but sparkles near the brim.
_Childe Harold, Canto III_. LORD BYRON.

Catch! then, O catch, the transient hour;
Improve each moment as it flies;
Life's a short summer--man a flower.
_Winter: An Ode_. DR. S. JOHNSON.

Come what come may,
Time and the hour runs through the roughest day.
_Macbeth, Act i. Sc. 3_. SHAKESPEARE.

And then he drew a dial from his poke,
And, looking on it with lack-lustre eye,
Says very wisely, "It is ten o'clock:
Thus may we see," quoth he, "how the world wags:
'T is but an hour ago since it was nine;
And after one hour more 't will be eleven;
And so, from hour to hour, we ripe and ripe.
And then, from hour to hour, we rot and rot;
And thereby hangs a tale."
_As You Like it, Act ii. Sc. 7_. SHAKESPEARE.

Seven hours to law, to soothing slumber seven,
Ten to the world allot, and all to heaven.
_Ode in Imitation of Alcaeus_. SIR W. JONES.

Nought treads so silent as the foot of Time;
Hence we mistake our autumn for our prime.
_Love of Fame, Satire IV_. DR. E. YOUNG.

Not one word more of the consumed time.
Let's take the instant by the forward top;
For we are old, and on our quick'st decrees
The inaudible and noiseless foot of Time
Steals ere we can effect them.
_All's Well that End's Well, Act v. Sc. 3_. SHAKESPEARE.

TOBACCO.

Sublime tobacco! which from east to west.
Cheers the tar's labor or the Turkman's rest,

* * * * *

Divine in hookahs, glorious in a pipe.
When tipped 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!
_The Island, Canto II_. LORD BYRON.

Yes, social friend, I love thee well,
In learned doctors' spite;
Thy clouds all other clouds dispel,
And lap me in delight.
_To my Cigar_. C. SPRAGUE.

Such often, like the tube they so admire,
Important triflers! have more smoke than fire.
Pernicious weed! whose scent the fair annoys,
Unfriendly to society's chief joys,
Thy worst effect is banishing for hours
The sex whose presence civilizes ours.
_Conversation_. W. COWPER.

Tobac