TEA'S APOLOGIA.

Loved by a host from Noah's days till now,

Extolled by bards in many a glowing line,

My purple rival of the mantling brow

May laugh to scorn this swarthy face of mine.

I care not: many a weary pain I cure;

Cold, heat and thirst I harmlessly abate;

I bless the weak, the aged and the poor;

And I have known the favor of the great.

I've cheered the minds of mighty poets gone;

Philosophers have owned my solace true;

Shy Cowper was my sweet Anacreon;

Keen Hazlitt craved “whole goblets” of my brew;

De Quincey praised my stimulating draught;

What cups of me old Doctor Johnson quaffed!