The frothing flaggon in his hand,
And like a gurgling streamlet sprung
The accents to that thirsty tongue,
X—X: Haw haw!
In happy homes he saw them grub
On stout, and oysters from a tub,—
The dismal gas-lights gleam'd without,
And from his lips escaped a shout,
"X—X: Haw haw!"
"Young man," the Sage observed, "just stay,