The Giants slain, the Cornish man
Despatched their gory heads by van
To great King Arthur;—gifts more queer
Have ne'er been sent to our Sovereign dear.
She gets gigantic cheeses, cakes,
Which loyal-hearted subject makes;
Gigantic peaches, melons, pumpkins,
Presented by her faithful bumpkins;
And giant heads of brocoli—not
The heads of Giants sent to pot—
Long may such heads, and such alone,
Be laid before her stainless throne!
XII.
Now Jack the darksome den explores,
And through its turns and windings pores,
'Till to a spacious hall he comes,
Where, o'er the hearth, a cauldron hums,
Much like a knacker's in the slums;
Hard by, a squalid table stood,
All foul with fat, and brains, and blood;
The two great Ogres' carrion food.
Through iron grate, the board beside,
Pale captive wretches he descried;
Who, when they saw the hero, cried,
"Alas! here comes another, booked,
Like us, poor pris'ners, to be cooked."
"Thank you," said Jack; "the Giants twain
Have had their bellyful of me;
To prove I do not boast in vain,
Behold, my bucks of brass, you 're free!"
And he brast the bars right speedily.
To meat they went, and, supper done,
To the treasury they hied each one
And filled their pockets full of money.
What Giants could want with silver and gold,
In sooth tradition hath not told:—
'T is a question rather funny.
XIII.
The very next day
The rest went away,
To their dear little wives and their daughters,
But Jack to the knight's
Repairs with delights
To recruit himself after his slaughters.
The lady fair and the gentle knight
Were glad to see Sir Jack "all right;"
Resolved to "do the handsome thing,"
They decked his finger with a ring
Of gold that with the diamond shone—
This motto was engraved thereon:—
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XIV.