Is this sad time! 'Tis five o'clock,
Go, fetch a cup of tea;
My pint of port is changed to that—
Weak Cowper's washy liquor!
Did tea make Cellarer Simon fat,
Or cheer Bray's jolly Vicar?
No more libations to the Muse!
Will cocoa make her kind?
Will water whisper words to use?
Will milk make up my mind,