Nor pledge nor plight of lady bright

Was there within his pouch.

There lay alone a steer’s thigh-bone,

Sharp pointed, huge, and thick;

Wherewith he used (for tell’t I must)

His monstrous teeth to pick.

Now this took Jack, and on his back

He slung the ugly spoil:

And thus again he swam the main,

Sore sick of blood and toil.