III.

See, beneath the mighty blade Gor’d with many a ghastly wound, Low the fam’d sir-loin is laid And sinks in many a gulf profound. Arise, arise, ye sons of glory, Pies and puddings stand before ye; See the ghosts of hungry bellies Point at yonder stand of jellies; While such dainties are beside ye, Snatch the goods the gods provide ye; Mighty rulers of this state, Snatch before it is too late; For, swift as thought, the puddings, jellies, pies, Contract their giant bulks, and shrink to pigmy size.