I was a little bit high around four

I was a little bit high around four,
So, having some ganjé at my ready,
Pinched four fingerfuls from my store
Then sat there and held the bong steady.

Four months had it been, or how many more
Since this binge began? How many before
Had I taken upon since first I tried
The herb to which all I'd left beside?

By the work of thumb I had but four flicks
To ignite the blossoms, leaves, shake, and sticks
And leave the world too much with us behind,
But a nobler vision crossed my baked mind:

The life I lead could achieve more than thus,
Waiting to smoke a stranger bowl of grass.
I lit the piece and breathed in vapor dust,
Introspecting as the stony feeling passed.

The gift of work, the labor of a dream
Have all glory in knowing how to seem.
All glory, praise of men and printed wealth,
To seem is something I can do myself.