Coffee
Voluptuous berry! Where may mortals find
Nectars divine that can with thee compare,
When, having dined, we sip thy essence rare,
And feel towards wit and repartee inclined?
Thou wert of sneering, cynical Voltaire,
The only friend; thy power urged Balzac's mind
To glorious effort; surely Heaven designed
Thy devotees superior joys to share.
Whene'er I breathe thy fumes, 'mid Summer stars,
The Orient's splendent pomps my vision greet.
Damascus, with its myriad minarets, gleams!
I see thee, smoking, in immense bazaars,
Or yet, in dim seraglios, at the feet
Of blond Sultanas, pale with amorous dreams!
Arthur Gray, in Over the Black Coffee (1902) has made the following contribution to the poetry of coffee, with an unfortunate reflection on tea, which might well have been omitted:
Coffee
O, boiling, bubbling, berry, bean!
Thou consort of the kitchen queen—
Browned and ground of every feature,
The only aromatic creature,
For which we long, for which we feel,
The breath of morn, the perfumed meal.
For what is tea? It can but mean,
Merely the mildest go-between.
Insipid sobriety of thought and mind
It "cuts no figure"—we can find—
Save peaceful essays, gentle walks,
Purring cats, old ladies' talks—
But coffee! can other tales unfold.
Its history's written round and bold—
Brave buccaneers upon the "Spanish Main",
The army's march across the lenght'ning plain,
The lone prospector wandering o'er the hill,
The hunter's camp, thy fragrance all distill.
So here's a health to coffee! Coffee hot!
A morning toast! Bring on another pot.
The Tea and Coffee Trade Journal published in 1909 the following excellent stanzas by William A. Price:
An Ode to Coffee
Oh, thou most fragrant, aromatic joy, impugned, abused, and often stormed against,
And yet containing all the blissfulness that in a tiny cup could be condensed!
Give thy contemners calm, imperial scorn—
For thou wilt reign through ages yet unborn!
Some ancient Arab, so the legend tells, first found thee—may his memory be blest!
The world-wide sign of brotherhood today, the binding tie between the East and West!
Good coffee pleases in a Persian dell,
And Blackfeet Indians make it more than well.
The lonely traveler in the desert range, if thou art with him, smiles at eventide—
The sailor, as thy perfume bubbles forth, laughs at the ocean as it rages wide—
And where the camps of fighting men are found
Thy fragrance hovers o'er each battleground.
"Use, not abuse, the good things of this life"—that is a motto from the Prophet's days,
And, dealing with thee thus, we ne'er shall come to troublous times or parting of the ways.
Comfort and solace both endure with thee,
Rich, royal berry of the coffee tree!