The circling glass again goes round,
As fear in wine and use is drowned:
The goblin sprite enjoys each joke,
Though never once the while he spoke,
But lent a civil listening ear,
Resolved minutely all to hear;
And every toast with ready will
His elfin hand consents to fill.
Heavens! what a wondrous draught he drew
When e’er they toasted bold B-- --h.