VI.

     Forward the monster tramps apace,
     Like to an elephant running a race;
     Like a walking-stick he handles his mace.
     Away, too venturous wight, decamp!
     In two more strides your skull he smashes;—
     One! Gracious goodness! what a stamp!
     Two! Ha! the plain beneath him crashes:
     Down he goes, full fathoms three.

     "How feel ye now," cried Jack, "old chap?
     It is plain, I wot, to see
     You 're by no means up to trap."
     The Giant answered with such a roar,
     It was like the Atlantic at war with its shore;
     A thousand times worse than the hullaballoo
     Of carnivora, fed,
     Ere going to bed,
     At the Regent's Park, or the Surrey "Zoo."

     "So ho! Sir Giant," said Jack, with a bow,
     "Of breakfast art thou fain?
     For a tit-bit wilt thou broil me now,
     An' I let thee out again? "
     Gnashing his teeth, and rolling his eyes,
     The furious lubber strives to rise.

     "Don't you wish you may get it?" our hero cries

       And he drives the pickaxe into his skull:
       Giving him thus a belly-full,
                        If the expression is n't a bull.

     VII.

                    Old Cormoran dead,
                       Jack cut off his head,
       And hired a boat to transport it home.
                    On the "bumps" of the brute,
       At the Institute,
       A lecture was read by a Mr. Combe.

         Their Worships, the Justices of the Peace,
         Called the death of the monster a "happy release:"
         Sent for the champion who had drubbed him,
         And "Jack the Giant Killer" dubbed him;
         And they gave him a sword, and a baldric, whereon
         For all who could read them, these versicles shone:—

            'THIS IS YE VALYANT CORNISHE MAN
            WHO SLEWE YE GIANT CORMORAN"

     I.

     Now, as Jack was a lion, and hero of rhymes,
     His exploit very soon made a noise in the "Times;"
              All over the west
              He was fêted,