Because you all need to know:
My God, Bengal Spice Tea is even good after it's been left cold on the counter for four hours. In fact, it might even be BETTER. Oh, tea:
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?
In what distant deep or skies
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand dare seize the fire?
And what shoulder and what art
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And when thy heart began to beat,
What dread hand and what dread feet?
... I have GOT to stop posting just before bed.
WAKE UP! You're drinking cold, old Bengal Spice Tea -- what the worst kind of Bengali kids call "crank-o-la" on the mean streets of Kolkata.
You've already started quoting Blake without attributing him; that's a sign that you've reached late Stage One regression. When you begin to issue orange foam out from under your fingernails, you'll be beyond the point of no return.
Repeat after me:
What the hammer? what the chain,
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? what dread grasp,
Dare its deadly terrors clasp!
...a-a-and eat more veg.
I love Bengal Spice tea. The longer it steeps, the spicier it gets! I used to call it the "tiger tea." Tension Tamer was the "dragon tea" b/c of the dragon on the box, natch.
These days, I need the caffeine, though, so it's been Lady Grey all the way. There's gotta be a poem for her somewhere.
As a side note, the word verification doodad is asking me to type "explecl," which, due to distortion, looks a little like "expelled," and is therefore the last thing I needed to see right after my cataloguing midterm!
I could quit tea any time I want. Now pass the sugar. PASS THE SUGAR!
Kate, a quick google search for Lady Grey poem has turned up poems on grammar, the holocaust, Casablanca, and manatees. I leave it to you to decide which best fits your beverage.
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