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Old poem
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Though we're fond of fresh air it occasioned despair when on Sunday we heard Mother say,"With the roses in bloom, who'd stay in a room? We'll have tea in the garden today." So under the trees in an easterly breeze we gathered in attitude strange. There were flies in the ham and wasps in the jam but we said, "What a beautiful change" ---
Can anyone help to complete this poem which my mother used to recite about 50 years ago? Thank you.
Can anyone help to complete this poem which my mother used to recite about 50 years ago? Thank you.
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From a 1913 US magazine -- unattributed:
Tea in the Garden
"Tho' we're fond of fresh air, it occasioned despair
When on Sunday we heard mother say,
"With the roses in bloom, who would stay in a room?
We'll have tea in the garden to-day."
So under the trees, in an easterly breeze,
We gathered in attitude strange;
There were wasps in the jam and flies
on the ham,
But we said, "What a beautiful change!"
Then we had a great fright—Mabel choked and turned white,
And, in tones that were meant to be gay,
Said, "It's nothing! You see, I was drinking my tea,
And an earwig went down the wrong way!''
There's a certain deck-chair, which is out of repair,
In which father reclined at his ease,
While he balanced in state a knife and a plate
And a cup of hot tea on his knees.
Soon we heard a sharp crack, and poor father fell back,
And got folded up in the chair.
Tea streamed from his head; oh, the things that he said
As he picked bits of cake from his hair!
To the charming appeal of the al fresco meal
Now our hearts we invariably harden:
You may: take it from me that in future our tea
Will not be consumed in the garden."
From a 1913 US magazine -- unattributed:
Tea in the Garden
"Tho' we're fond of fresh air, it occasioned despair
When on Sunday we heard mother say,
"With the roses in bloom, who would stay in a room?
We'll have tea in the garden to-day."
So under the trees, in an easterly breeze,
We gathered in attitude strange;
There were wasps in the jam and flies
on the ham,
But we said, "What a beautiful change!"
Then we had a great fright—Mabel choked and turned white,
And, in tones that were meant to be gay,
Said, "It's nothing! You see, I was drinking my tea,
And an earwig went down the wrong way!''
There's a certain deck-chair, which is out of repair,
In which father reclined at his ease,
While he balanced in state a knife and a plate
And a cup of hot tea on his knees.
Soon we heard a sharp crack, and poor father fell back,
And got folded up in the chair.
Tea streamed from his head; oh, the things that he said
As he picked bits of cake from his hair!
To the charming appeal of the al fresco meal
Now our hearts we invariably harden:
You may: take it from me that in future our tea
Will not be consumed in the garden."