To see himself surrounded by the Flood.
The rapid movements so confused his head,
He knew not what he did, nor what he said;
Had not his appetite, which never fail’d him,
With certain griping, knawing hints assail’d him:
For John to certain forms was true, and steady,
So eager ask’d when dinner would be ready?
‘Dinner[2] I’ll warrant,’ says a churlish Elf,
‘If you want dinner, pray provide yourself;
‘You’ll get no dinner here, ’tis not the fashion,