  A child with monstrous pumpkin head, Grey pigtail, and moustache light red, With lanky arms and yet stupendous, No bowels, yet with maw tremendous,— A changeling which a Corporal Into our cradle had let fall On stealing from it our own baby— This monster, falsehood’s child, (or may be ’Twas in reality the son Of his own favourite dog alone)— What need to say how much we spurn it? For heaven’s sake, drown it or else burn it! |
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