. Over the black coffee . limbs and squalid faces,In litters and on crutches from afarComfort yourselves, and with expanded nostrilsDrink in the nectar of the feast divineThat favorable zephyrs waft to you;But do not dare besiege these noble precincts,Importunately offering her that reigns 106 OVER THE BLACK COFFEE Within your loathsome spectacle of woe !And now, sir, tis your office to prepareThe tiny cup that then shall minister,Slow sipped, its liquor to thy ladys lips ;And now, bethink thee, whether she preferThe boiling beverage much or little temperedWith sweet; or if, perchance, she lik
. Over the black coffee . limbs and squalid faces,In litters and on crutches from afarComfort yourselves, and with expanded nostrilsDrink in the nectar of the feast divineThat favorable zephyrs waft to you;But do not dare besiege these noble precincts,Importunately offering her that reigns 106 OVER THE BLACK COFFEE Within your loathsome spectacle of woe !And now, sir, tis your office to prepareThe tiny cup that then shall minister,Slow sipped, its liquor to thy ladys lips ;And now, bethink thee, whether she preferThe boiling beverage much or little temperedWith sweet; or if, perchance, she like it best,As doth the barbarous spouse, then when she sitsUpon brocades of Persia, with light fingersThe bearded visage of her lord caressing. Guisseppe Parini. From William Dean Howells Modern ItalianPoets. The above is a quotation from thetranslation of Parinis poem, The Day, whichcelebrates The Morning, The Noon, The Even-ing, and The Night, of a gentleman of fashionas Milan knew him for fifty years in the 107 OVER THE BLACK COFFEE ONE HUNDRED LAST WORDSON COFFEE. The best stories that have everbeen told have never been best stories that may ever betold will never know the immor-tality of type. They have not been,and they will never be, told overthe oysters, soup, roast, entree, des-sert,—but over the coffee. The hus-band doesnt tell his wife his beststory; nor does she tell him hers;nor do the editor and author theirreaders. It is the friend that tellsthe friend, as the aroma of the cof-fee opens the portals of his soul,and the story, long hidden, iswinged for posterity. John Ernest McCann. 108 OCT io 1902 OCT 10 1902
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1900, bookdecade1900, booksubjectcoffee, bookyear1902
