Of all the things to make you stare,—
A Pumpkin-Head, I do declare!
That such a thing could come about
One almost feels inclined to doubt.
The story’s sad, if true it be:
I’ll tell it as ’twas told to me.
A man once lived whose name was Nocket,
Who dearly loved to fill his pocket,
And for the poor he had small pity.