THE LITTLE TEA BOOK 



TEA 

 BY FRANCIS SALTUS SALTUS 



From what enchanted Eden came thy leaves 

 That hide such subtle spirits of perfume ? 

 Did eyes preadamite first see the bloom, 



Luscious nepenthe of the soul that grieves ? 



By thee the tired and torpid mind conceives 

 Fairer than roses brightening life's gloom, 

 Thy protean charm can every form assume 



And turn December nights to April eves. 



Thy amber-tinted drops bring back to me 

 Fantastic shapes of great Mongolian towers, 

 Emblazoned banners, and the booming gong; 



I hear the sound of feast and revelry, 



And smell, far sweeter than the sweetest 



flowers, 

 The kiosks of Pekin, fragrant of Oolong ! 



