Pass the bills on the pills on the window-sill; notice the capsule
(A sick man’s fancy, no doubt, but I place
Reliance on trade-marks, Sir)—so perhaps you’ll
Excuse the digression—this cup which I hold
Light-poised—Bah, it’s spilt in the bed!—well, let’s on go—
Hold Bohea and sugar, Sir; if you were told
The sugar was salt, would the Bohea be Congo?
6—(Wordsworth, who gave it away)
“Come, little cottage girl, you seem
To want my cup of tea;