SIP THE THIRD. GOS-SIP.
That hour devoted to thy vesper “service”—
Dulcet exhilaration! glorious tea!—
I deem my happiest. Howsoe’er I swerve, as
To mind or morals, elsewhere, over thee
I am a perfect creature, quite impervious
To care, or tribulation, or ennui—
In fact, I do agnize to thee an utter
Devotion even to the bread and butter.
The homely kettle hissing on the bar—