Explore "The Lost Drink" by Andrew Barton Paterson on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
I had spent the night in the watch-house -- / My head was the size of three -- / So I went and asked the chemist / To fix up a drink for me; / And he brewed it from various bottles / With soda and plenty of ice, / With something that smelt like lemon, / And something that seemed like spice.
It fell on my parching palate / Like the dew on a sun-baked plain, / And my system began to flourish / Like the grass in a soft spring rain; / It wandered throughout my being, / Suffusing my soul with rest, / And I felt as I "scoffed" that liquid / That life had a new-found zest.