Their loves to wither,
But pigs must know they’re born to die
And should not squeal when the knife draws nigh.
Stickem came that morning,
While love was yawning,
And seized him, with intent to slay;
“Oh, oh!” says Love, “this is all my eye!”
So he kicked him over, and flew away.
The Bencher; or, Whitewashing Day.