Great charm hath tea—some fragrant blend
Sipped with a fair and festive friend;
And even milk hath flavour, too,
When sun-kissed milkmaids hand it you.
Beer, in a large resounding can
Befits a coarser type of man,
While some rejoice in spirit pure,
And others in a faked liqueur.
But none of these, nor any wine,
Hath present claim to praise of mine,
Hath e'er produced the gasp and thrill
Of that incomparable swill
When first, from care and toil set free,
I plunge into the summer sea
And bring a mouthful back with me.