The Hostel, or Inn, XVII

The song went round, the Goblin Groom Still plied the wine in festal room; And bumper after bumper flew; It was I ween a jovial crew.— What chance had mortal man at drink With one of charmed degree; I cannot say, but needs must think That chance but small could be. And so it proved, and so they found, E’er thirty bumper toasts went round.