And drank a full jorum of Sangaree.
What can be the matter with flogging Joe?
His eyes are rolling to and fro,
And he rubs his nose with his finger and thumb,
And gasps to speak, like one that is dumb.
The forms that lately were pawns and knights,
And bishops, and queens, and kings,
Were reeling and wheeling, like so many sprites,
Or other unearthly things.
And beings all fearfully black were there,