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."