Loud clashed their rims with a royal will.
And he, the youngest, that swayed them erst,
Poured yet again, like a man athirst:
“To the first who follows we drink, we three!”
Sudden beside him Another stood,
So sudden, he fell as the sandal-wood
Sinks when the axe is laid to the tree:
But the Shadow lifted his cup instead
With the old quick smile, and the toss of the head:
“Franz! thou art the first to follow!” he said.