Farewell then, O Luck of Edenhall!
“’T was right a goblet the Fate should be
Of the joyous race of Edenhall!
Deep draughts drink we right willingly
And willingly ring, with merry call,
Kling! klang! to the Luck of Edenhall!”
First rings it deep, and full, and mild,
Like to the song of a nightingale;
Then like the roar of a torrent wild;
Then mutters at last like the thunder’s fall,