Attributed to Ralph Erskine. The AllPoetry page says the First Part is likely by George Wither, and that a manuscript of it dates from the reign of James I.
This Indian weed now wither'd quite, Though 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 may 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 power 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 outward means are so, Till heav'nly fire Your 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.