And I am next of kin;
The guests are met, the feast is set:—
May'st hear the merry din."
He holds him with his skinny hand,
"There was a ship," quoth he.
"Hold off! unhand me, grey-beard loon!"
Eftsoons his hand dropt he.
He holds him with his glittering eye—
The wedding-guest stood still,
And listens like a three-years' child: