In sober state,
Through the sequestered vale of rural life,
The venerable patriarch guileless held
The tenor of his way.
-- Beilby Porteus (1731-1808)
-- Death, Line 108
Tea! thou soft, thou sober sage, and venerable liquid hou female
tongue-running, smile-smoothing, heart-opening, wink tippling cordial, to whose
glorious insipidity I owe the happiest moments of ny life, let me fall
prostrate!...