Tea In The Garden

I will not go to tea with you, Mrs Arden, Yourself, your house, your tea, These three Are all acceptable to me; But oh! Too well I know That if I go You will say Brightly How pleasant it will be To-day To have tea In the garden . . . . And I - poor fool! - politely Shall agree Then will my tea be tepid And into it will things Descend on strings Like acrobats intrepid, Ants with fierce gallop, wasps with eager wings Will to the jam resort, And in the cream the game-some earwig sport. My chair will be so low (That too I know) I’ll scarce be able To reach the table - Its scones And buttered buns, And sandwiches with bits of green inside, The sun have somewhat dried . . . . Pardon Me therefore, Mrs Arden, And think me not ungrateful Because I deem most hateful Tea in the garden.