TO MY TEA-KETTLE.

For the Table Book.

1.

For many a verse inspired by tea,
(A never-failing muse to me)
My Kettle, let this tribute flow,
Thy charms to blazon.
And tell thy modest worth, although
Thy face be brazen.

2.

Let others boast the madd’ning bowl,
That raises but to sink the soul,
Thou art the Bacchus that alone
I wish to follow:
From thee I tipple Helicon,
My best Apollo!

3.

’Tis night—my children sleep—no noise
Is heard, except thy cheerful voice;
For when the wind would gain mine ear,
Thou sing’st the faster—
As if thou wert resolv’d to cheer
Thy lonely master.

4.

And so thou dost: those brazen lungs
Vent no deceit, like human tongues:
That honest breath was never known
To turn informer:
And for thy feelings—all must own
That none are warmer.