With a rebel heart and a flashing eye
Winifred laid her tea-pot by;
“Till we are granted our rights,” said she,
“I’ll drink not another cup of tea.”
(Oh, matrons of this luxurious age,
Who lightly turn from History’s page,
Just for a year or two forego
Your redolent draughts of rare Pekoe,
And say if you deem the self-denial
Of our great-great-grandmothers not a trial!)