In the drama of the past
Thou art featured in the cast;
And thou hast played thy part
With never a change of heart,
For 'mid all the ding and dong
Waits a welcome--soothing song,
For fragrant Hyson and Oolong.
. . .
A song of peace, thr
ugh all the years,
Of fireside fancies, devoid of fears,
Of mothers' talks and mothers' lays,
Of grandmothers' comforts--quiet ways.
Of gossip, perhaps--still and yet--
What of Johnson? Would we forget
The pictured cup; those merry times,
When round the board, with ready rhymes
Waller, Dryden, and Addison--Young,
Grave Pope to Gay, when Cowper sung?
Sydney Smith, too; gentle Lamb brew,
Tennyson, Dickens, Doctor Holmes knew.
The cup that cheered, those sober souls,
And tiny tea-trays, samovars, and bowls.
. . .
So here's a toast to the queen of plants,
The queen of plants--Bohea!
Good wife, ring for your maiden aunts,
We'll all have cups of tea.