Hurrah, for the coal-black wine!
There came to him many a maiden
Whose eyes had forgot to shine,
And widows with grief o’erladen,
For draught of his coal-black wine.
Hurrah, for the coal-black wine!
The heat of the room was abominable, and he mopped his forehead with his handkerchief, and groaned aloud. Then, returning to his song, he skipped a verse and proceeded.
All came to the rare old fellow,
Who laughed till his eyes dropped brine,
And he gave them his hand so yellow,