See, beneath the mighty blade,
Gor'd with many a ghastly wound,
Low the fam'd Sir-loin is laid,
And sinks in many a gulph profound.
Arise, arise, ye sons of glory,
Pies and puddings stand before ye;
See, the ghosts of hungry bellies
Point at yonder stand of jellies;
While such dainties are beside ye.
Snatch the goods the gods provide ye: