Tea does our fancy aid, Repress those vapours which the head invade And keeps that palace of the soul serene.
If its length be not considered a merit, it hath no other.
Poets that lasting marble seek, Must come in Latin or in Greek.
His love at once and dread instruct our thought; As man He suffer'd and as God He taught.
All things but one you can restore; the heart you get returns no more.
Happy is she that from the world retires, and carries with her what the world admires.