XVIII.
Why need I tell, why need I show
Humanity debased, laid low;
How some beneath the table lay;
How others strove to get away,
And, tumbling headlong on the floor,
Ne’er reached the fated festal door;
Whilst stammering, incoherently,
Towards the goblin turned an eye;
Still saw him quaff the liquor down;
Still saw him smile, still saw him frown,
As fancied joke, or fancied toast,
Or fancied anger, ruled him most:
And thus he toasting bumpered on,
As long as he was looked upon.