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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