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James Whitcomb Riley - A Cup Of Tea
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I have sipped, with drooping lashes,
    Dreamy draughts of Verzenay;
  I have flourished brandy-smashes
    In the wildest sort of way;
  I have joked with "Tom and Jerry"
    Till wee hours ayont the twal`--
  But I`ve found my tea the very
    Safest tipple of them all!

  `Tis a mystical potation
    That exceeds in warmth of glow
  And divine exhilaration
    All the drugs of long ago--
  All of old magicians` potions--
    Of Medea`s filtered spells--
  Or of fabled isles and oceans
    Where the Lotos-eater dwells!

  Though I`ve reveled o`er late lunches
    With _blase_ dramatic stars,
  And absorbed their wit and punches
    And the fumes of their cigars--
  Drank in the latest story,
    With a cock-tail either end,--
  I have drained a deeper glory
    In a cup of tea, my friend.

  Green, Black, Moyune, Formosa,
    Congou, Amboy, Pingsuey--
  No odds the name it knows--ah!
    Fill a cup of it for me!
  And, as I clink my china
    Against your goblet`s brim,
  My tea in steam shall twine a
    Fragrant laurel round its rim.
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