“We go to the Giant’s this afternoon,
To carry him something nice,—
A custard three times as big as the moon,
With sugar and wine and spice.”
“O daughter, your father shall go with you;
Suppose the Giant is well,
And eats you up, what shall we do?”
Then her thought did Alice tell:—
“No, mother dear; we go alone,
And Heaven for us will care;
If the Giant bad has a heart of stone,
We will soften it with prayer!”
Now, when the Giant saw these maids,
Drest all in white, draw near,
He twitched his monstrous shoulder-blades,
And dropped an honest tear!
“Dear Giant, a syllabub nice we bring,
Pray let us tuck you in!”
The Giant said, “Sweet innocent thing!
“Oh, I am a lump of sin!
“Go home, and say to the man of prayer
To make the church-door wide,
For I next Sunday will be there,
And kneel, dears, at your side.
“Tell brave young Harold I forgive
Him for the harrow-spikes;
And I will do, please Heaven I live,
What penance the prayer-man likes.
“Set down, my dears, the syllabub,
And as I better feel,
I’ll try and eat a fox’s cub
At my next mid-day meal;
“And all my life the village I’ll keep
From harmful vermin free;
But never more will eat up the sheep,
The honey, or cock-turkéy!”