I had spent the night in the watch-house -- <br />My head was the size of three -- <br />So I went and asked the chemist <br />To fix up a drink for me; <br />And he brewed it from various bottles <br />With soda and plenty of ice, <br />With something that smelt like lemon, <br />And something that seemed like spice. <br />It fell on my parching palate <br />Like the dew on a sunbaked plain, <br />And my system began to flourish <br />Like the grass in the soft spring rain; <br />It wandered throughout my being, <br />Suffusing my soul with rest, <br />And I felt as I "scoffed" that liquid <br />That life had a new-found zest. <br /> <br />I have been on the razzle-dazzle <br />Full many a time since then <br />But I never could get the chemist <br />To brew me that drink again. <br />He says he's forgotten the notion -- <br />'Twas only by chance it came -- <br />He's tried me with various liquids <br />But oh! they are not the same. <br /> <br />We have sought, but we sought it vainly, <br />That one lost drink divine; <br />We have sampled his various bottles, <br />But somehow they don't combine: <br />Yet I know when I cross the River <br />And stand on the Golden Shore <br />I shall meet with an angel chemist <br />To brew me that drink once more.<br /><br />Andrew Barton Paterson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-lost-drink/
