GOG.
I wonder where the fools were taught,
That they should keep a giant short!
They’ll stop our growth, they’ll stop our growth;
They’ll starve us both, they’ll starve us both!
MAGOG.
They said, a hundred years ago,
That we should dine at One;
Why, Gog, I say, our meat by this
Is rather over-done.
GOG.
I do not want it done at all,
So hungry is my maw,
Give me an Alderman in chains,
And I will eat him raw!
MAGOG.
Of starving weavers they discuss,
And yet they never think of us.
I say, are we to dine to-day;
Are we to dine to-day?
GOG.
Oh dear, the pang it is to feel
So mealy-mouthed without a meal!