, , haste; and come away,
For  his cloth ere long must lay.
Come, left the dinner should be spoil'd,
The beef's already too much boil'd;
The very turkey on the spit
Cries out, make haste and pick a bit.
rage and soup have each boil'd o'er,
And thrice the wicked creature swore.
Then, , haste, and come away,
For dinner will no longer stay.