Peter Faultless to his brother Simon tales of night, in rhyme, and other poems. By the author of Night [i.e. Ebenezer Elliott] |
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 | Peter Faultless to his brother Simon |  |
XXII.
Then to the stranger Jacob broughtThe punch he lov'd; and, at a draught,
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“What emptyness in this world is!”
Sigh'd Jacob, as with drowthy scowl,
Angry, he ey'd the empty bowl.
“My thirsty friend! thou canst, I see,
Make with thine old acquaintance free.
I hope thou wilt, to bless our ears,
And melt our eyes in music's tears,
Honour the wedding with a song,
Sad as thy phiz, but not so long.”
The reverend man his wrath controll'd,
And answer'd calmly: “Though I'm old,
I still have music in my soul.”
And wonder soon, on every face,
Hearken'd his deep and mellow bass.
| Peter Faultless to his brother Simon | |