Of all the meals that glad my day <br />My morning one's the best; <br />Purveyed me on a silver tray, <br />Immaculately dressed. <br />I rouse me when the dawn is bright; <br />I leap into the sea, <br />Returning with a rare delight <br />To honey, toast and tea. <br /> <br />My appetite was razor edged <br />When I was in my prime; <br />To eggs and bacon I was pledged . . . <br />Ala! the March of Time; <br />For now a genial old gent <br />With journal on my knee, <br />I sip and take with vast content <br />My honey, toast and tea. <br /> <br />So set me up for my delight <br />The harvest of the bee; <br />Brown, crispy toast with butter bright, <br />Ceylon - two cups or three. <br />Let others lunch or dinner praise, <br />But I regale with glee, <br />As I regard with grateful gaze <br />Just honey, toast and tea.<br /><br />Robert William Service<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/breakfast-2/
