The Hostel, or Inn, XV

Oh! ’twould have done you good to see How keen, how long, how heartily He pushed the liquor round: He never left or spilt a drop; He never let the bottle stop, Nor uttered a sound. And, strange to tell, the jovial fay, Though fond of wine, had nought to say. A man of words might never learn To be so wondrous taciturn. And now the song, with jovial strain, Awakened midnight’s dull repose; Though many pleaded colds in vain, Ayes had the ’vantage still of noes: And thus may rulers ever be Supported by majority.