IX
And so Frodgedobbulum, the giant,
Sits on the North Pole incompliant.
He blinks at the snow with its weary white;
He blinks at the spears of the northern light;
Kicks out with one boot; says, “Fi-fo-fum!
I am the Giant Frodgedobbulum!”
But who cares whether he is or not,
Living in such an inclement spot?
Banbury town is the place for me,
And a kiss from merry Marjorie,
With the clerk in the vestry to see all fair—
For she wears orange-flowers in her hair!
She can dance like a leaf, she can sing like a thrush,
She is bold as the north wind, and sweet as a blush;
Her father he tans, her mother she spins;
Frodgedobbulum sits on the Pole for his sins;
But here comes Marjorie, white as milk,
A rose on her bosom as soft as silk,
On her finger a gay gold ring;
The bridegroom holds up his head like a king!
Marjorie has married a gentleman;
Who knows when the wedding began?