His calcined bones they kneaded up
With lumps of China clay.
Their poison’d victim then they wrapp’d
In lead, with well-feign’d grief,
And wrote the epitaph outside,
“Here lies Sir T. Tea-leaf.”
And though their grief was all a sham,
The epitaph was true,
For “here” it said, “a Tea-leaf lies.”
And “lie” such Tea-leaves do.