Quoth the nightmare, “Eat no more!”
“Goose!” I shrieked out, “Leave, oh, leave me! surely you don’t mean to grieve me?
You are heavy, pray reprieve me, now my penance must be o’er;
Though to-night you’ve brought me sorrow, comfort surely comes to-morrow.
Some relief from thee I’d borrow at my doctor’s ample store,
There are pills of purest azure in that doctor’s ample store.”
Quoth the goblin, “Eat no more!”
And that fat Goose, never flitting, like a nightmare still is sitting
With me all the night, emitting words that thrill my bosom’s core;
Now, throughout the Christmas season, while I lie and gasp and wheeze, on