OF GIANTS IN GENERAL.

A Giant was, I should premise,

A hulking lout of monstrous size;

He mostly stood — I know you‘ ll laugh —

About as high as a giraffe.

His waist was some three yards in girth:

When he walked he shook the earth.

His eyes were of the class called “goggle,”

Fitter for the scowl than ogle.

His mouth, decidedly carnivorous,

Like a shark's,— the Saints deliver us!

He yawned like a huge sarcophagus,

For he was an Anthropophagus,

And his tusks were huge and craggy;

His hair, and his brows, and his beard, were shaggy.

I ween on the whole he was aught but a Cupid,

And exceedingly fierce, and remarkably stupid;

His brain partaking strongly of lead,

How well soe'er he was off for head;

Having frequently one or two

Crania more than I or you.

He was bare of arm and leg,

But buskins had, and a philabeg;

Also a body-coat of mail

That shone with steel or brazen scale,

Like to the back of a crocodile's tail;

A crown he wore,

And a mace he bore

That was knobbed and spiked with adamant;

It would smash the skull

Of the mountain bull,

Or scatter the brains of the elephant.

His voice than the tempest was louder and gruffer —

Well; so much for the uncouth “buffer.”