er fails
On board the ship in which he sails.
Now all the reservoirs are shut.
The crew on short allowance put;
So small a drop is each man's share.
Few leavings you may think there are
To water these poor coffee plants--
But he supplies their grasping wants,
Even from his own dry parched lips
He spares it for his coffee slips.
Water he gives his nurslings first,
Ere he allays his own deep thirst,
Lest, if he first the water sip,
He bear too far his eager lip.
He sees them droop for want of more;
Yet when they reach the destined shore,
With pride the heroic gardener sees
A living sap still in his trees.
The islanders his praise resound;
Coffee plantations rise around;
And Martinico loads her ships
With produce from those dear-saved slips.

In John Keats' amusing fantasy, _Cap and Bells_, the Emperor Elfinan
greets Hum, the great soothsayer, and offers him refreshment:

"You may have sherry in silver, hock in gold, or glass'd champagne
... what cup will you drain?"

"Commander of the Faithful!" answered Hum,
"In preference to these, I'll merely taste
A thimble-full of old Jamaica rum."
"A simple boon," said Elfinan; "thou mayst
Have Nantz, with which my morning coffee's laced."

But Hum accepts the glass of Nantz, without the coffee, "made racy with
the third part of the least drop of _creme de citron_, crystal clear."

Numerous broadsides printed in London, 1660 to 1675, have been referred
to in chapter X. Few of them possess real literary merit.

"Coffee and Crumpets" has been much quoted. It was published in
_Fraser's Magazine_, in 1837. Its author calls himself "Launcelot
Littledo". The poem is quite long, and only those portions are printed
here that refer particularly to "Yemen's fragrant berry":

COFFEE AND CRUMPETS

_By Launcelot Littledo of Pump Court, Temple, Barrister-at-law._

There's ten o'clock! From Hampstead to the Tower
The bells are chanting forth a lusty carol;
Wrangling, with iron tongues, about the hour,
Like fifty drunken fishwives at a quarrel;
Cautious policemen shun the coming shower;
Thompson and Fearon tap another barrel;
"_Dissolve frigus, lignum super foco.
Large reponens._" Now, come Orinoco!

To puff away an hour, and drink a cup,
A brimming _breakfast_-cup of ruddy Mocha--
Clear, luscious, dark, like eyes that lighten up
The raven hair, fair cheek, and _bella boca_
Of Florence maidens. I can never sup
Of perigourd, but (_guai a chi la tocca!_)
I'm doomed to