NIGHTMARE ABBEY.
169
This catch was so well executed by the spirit and science of Mr. Hilary, and the deep tri-une voice of the reverend gentleman, that the whole party, in spite of themselves, caught the contagion, and joined in chorus at the conclusion, each raising a bumper to his lips:
The bowl goes trim: the moon doth shine:
and our ballast is old wine.
and our ballast is old wine.
Mr. Cypress, having his ballast on board, stepped, the same evening, into his bowl, or travelling chariot; and departed to rake seas and rivers, lakes and canals, for the moon of ideal beauty.
