So did my heart responsively,
Beat like a prison'd bird,
That's newly caught--but no reply
I made, to what I heard.
It nearer came--'Angels,' I cried,
'And Ministers of Grace defend.'
Yet nothing I as yet descried,
My hair stood all on end.
My breath was short, I'm sure my eye
Was dim, so was the light,
I thought that I that hour should die,
With sad and sore affright.
And then came o'er me--what came o'er?
Some spectre grim I'll bet,
O tell me!--why at every pore--
A very heavy sweat.
Poh, don't delay the wond'rous tale,
What follow'd? tell me that,
(I feel my heart and limbs too fail)
The same thing, pit-a-pat.
And then there came before my eyes,
I pray thee 'list, O list,'
You fill my heart with dread surprise
What was it? why a mist.
And then around my head there play'd
A flame, so wond'rous bright,
That made me more than all afraid--
My wig had caught the light.
And there came wand'ring by at last,
The same thing, pit-a-pat,
I found as 'cross the room it past,
The cat had got a rat.
MAY.
* * * * *
TEA.
(_For the Mirror_.)
"The Muses' friend, _tea_, does our fancy aid,
Repress those vapours which the head invade."
WALLER.
The tea-tree loves to grow in valleys, at the foot of mountains, and
upon the banks of rivers, where it enjoys a southern exposure to the
sun, though it endures considerable variations of heat and cold, as it
flourishes in the northern clime of Peking, as well as about Canton;
and it is observed that the degree of cold at Peking is as severe in
winter as in some parts of Europe.
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