Our Forbears, whom they call polite,
And used to good society quite,
Would without straining any rule
In saucer pour their tea to cool.
Quaffing from which (as they would fain
The tablecloth protect from stain).

They placed their cups which might be wet
In “cup-plates” for the purpose set.
Some of the small glass plates portray
The visage mild of Henry Clay,
On others, through the workman’s craft,
Stands Bunker Hill’s Memorial shaft.

Advancing taste set up a wail,
That such a fashion should prevail.
The plates were thrown aside forlorn,
Treated with carelessness and scorn,
Thus added value do they gain,
As coveted, but few remain.