Oh, thou most fragrant, aromatic joy, impugned,
abused, and often stormed against,
And yet containing all the blissfulness that in
a tiny cup could be condensed!
Give thy contemners calm, imperial scorn—
For thou wilt reign through ages yet unborn!
Some ancient Arab, so the legend tells, first
found thee—may his memory be blest!
The worldwide sign of brotherhood today, the
binding tie between the East and West!
Good coffee pleases in a Persian dell,
And Blackfeet Indians make it more than well.
The lonely traveler in the desert range, if thou
art with him, smiles at eventide—
The sailor, as thy perfume bubbles forth, laughs
at the ocean as it rages wide—
And where the camps of fighting men are found
Thy fragrance hovers o’er each battleground.
“Use, not abuse, the good things of this life”—
that is a motto from the Prophet’s days,
And, dealing with thee thus, we ne’er shall
come to troublous times or parting of the
ways.
Comfort and solace both endure with thee,
Rich, royal berry of the coffee tree!
