"When my spirits are low, for relief and delight,
I still place your splendid Memorial in sight;
And call to my Muse, when care strives to pursue,
'Bring the Steaks to my Memory and the Bowl to my view.'
When brought, at its sight all the blue devils fly,
And a world of gay visions rise bright to my eye;
Cold Fear shuns the cup where warm Memory flows;
And Grief, shamed by Joy, hides his budget of Woes.
'Tis a pure holy fount, where for ever I find
A sure double charm for the Body and Mind;