O Tea!



In the drama of the past

Thou art featured in the cast;

(O Tea!)

And thou hast played thy part

With never a change of heart,

(O Tea!)

For 'mid all the ding and dong

Waits a welcome--soothing song,

For fragrant Hyson and Oolong.

. . .

A song of peace, through 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.

--ARTHUR GRAY.





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