Scarce a nod or salutation changed, he pounced upon the floor;
Coolly lifted up the oysters and some stout from off the floor,
Help'd himself, and took some more.'
Then this hungry beast untiring fix'd his gaze with fond admiring
On a piece of cold boil'd beef I meant to last a week or more,
Quick he set to work devouring—plates, in quick succession, scouring—
Stout with every mouthful show'ring—made me ask, to see it pour,
If he quite enjoy'd his supper, as I watch'd the liquid pour;
Said the Vulture, "Never more."