Samuel Taylor Coleridge,
Monody on a Tea-kettle
(1790)
“ The sooty swain has felt the fire’s fierce rage; — Yes, he is gone, and all my woes increase; I heard the water issuing from the wound — No more the Tea shall pour its fragrant steams around! O Goddess best belov’d! Delightful Tea! With thee compar’d what yields the madd’ning Vine? Sweet power! who know’st to spread the calm delight, And the pure joy prolong to midmost night! 20 Ah! must I all thy varied sweets resign? ”
