Ached to quaff that golden liquor,
From the bicker quick and quicker,
And to roll it down my gullet,
As I tossed upon my bed.
Swift I stretched my hand to seize it,
When I heard a voice cry “Cheese it!”
And my head against the bed-post
Falling, crashing, came ca-bunk;
And the demons did evanish,
Like to spirits walking Spanish,