THE LITTLE TEA BOOK 



TO THE A UTHOR ON HIS POEM UPON 

 TEA 



Let Unstick Satyr, now no more Abuse, 

 In rude Unskilful Strains, thy Tuneful Muse ; 

 No more let Envy lash thy true-bred Steed, 

 Nor cross thy easy, just, and prudent Speed : 

 Who dext'rously doth bear or loose the Rein, 

 To climb each lofty Hill, or scour the Plain : 

 With proper Weight and Force thy Courses run ; 

 Where still thy Pegasus has Wonders done, 

 Come home with Strength, and thus the Prize 



has Won. 



But now takes Wing, and to the Skies aspires ; 

 While Vanquish'd Envy the bold Flight ad- 

 mires, 

 And baffled Satyr to his Den retires. T. W. 



