Help’d himself, and took some more!
Then this hungry beast untiring fix’d his gaze with fond admiring
On a piece of cold boil’d beef, I meant to last a week or more,
Quick he set to work devouring—plates, in quick succession, scouring—
Stout with every mouthful show’ring—made me ask, to see it pour,
If he quite enjoy’d his supper, as I watch’d the liquid pour;
Said the Vulture “Never more.”
Much disgusted at the spacious vacuum by this brute voracious
Excavated in the beef—(he’d eaten quite enough for four)—
Still, I felt relief surprising when at length I saw him rising,