Screaming, yelling, little nasties,
Would that Ogres down their maw
Had you cramm'd in Christmas pasties,
That would make ye hold your jaw.
Saucy imps, stew'd down to jelly,
Ye would make a sauce most rare;
Or with pudding in each belly,
Rival roasted pig or hare.
Sweeter than the fish of these is,
Would be yours, young human bores;