A Well-known Storyteller, Author and Inspirational Speaker

Revolutionary Tea

I want to put the words in for an old song that my Mother and Dad liked to sing on the front porch in the season for the Fourth of July. My father was especially fond of quoting all of the Patrick Henry speech for us on that holiday. I remember that he was called on to say it for the audience at the Sunday School picnic and he had a roaring response. Patriotism was the reason for the Fourth in the twenties.   I was so busy getting my dinner planned and ready that I did not get the July posting done in time for the holiday. It came and went before I could catch my breath it seemed. I will google it after a while and see if I can find anyone singing the same tune that my parents sang, and if so I’ll give you that website.


Revolutionary Tea


There was an old lady lived over the sea and she was an island queen,

Her daughter lived off in a far country with an ocean of water between.(Repeat U)

The old lady’s pockets were filled with gold but never contented was she,

So she ordered her daughter to pay her a tax of three pence a pound on the tea.(Repeat U)

“Oh, Mother, dear Mother, “ the daughter replied, “I’ll not do the thing that you ask.

I’m willing to pay a fair price for the tea, but never a three penny tax! (Repeat U.)

“You shall!” cried the mother, and reddened with rage, “For you’re my own daughter,

You see,

And it’s only proper that a daughter should pay her mother a tax on the tea!”(Repeat U)

So the old lady her servant called up and packed off a budget of tea,

And eager for three pence a pound she put in enough for a large family! (Re[eat U)

She ordered the servant to bring her the tax, declaring her child should obey,

Or old as she was and a woman full grown she’d half whip her life away.(Repeat U)

The tea was conveyed to the daughter’s door All down by the ocean side

And the bouncing girl poured out every pound in the dark and rolling tide.(Repeat U)

Then she called out to the island queen, “Oh Mother, dear Mother, “ quoth she,

Your tea you may have when ‘tis brewed quite enough, but Never a Tax from me!

(Repeat U)

Leave a Reply

7 × seven =