Ingentes animos angusto in pectore.
IN Cornwall then there lived a youth,(Such may that land ne’er lack)His mother call’d him “Johnny dear,”His father call’d him Jack.In sooth he was of gentle mien,And of a nature kind:And though his body it was small,It held a mighty mind.For he had read of fairy tales,And deeds of high emprize;And envied knights who died in fights,Or lived in ladies’ eyes.And not a wrestling match there was,But Jack would try his skill;And not a fair but Jack was thereTo wreak his merry will.And while he sat upon some rock,And watch’d his sheep by day,His eyes were with his silly flock,His soul was far away.Sometimes he went to beard intentA Giant in his den;Sometimes he thought he singly foughtWith twice two hundred men:And when he found himself aground,Not caring to be slainHe sprang afoot, and off he shotTill he might breathe again.Now Jack while he sat thoughtfullyOne glorious sabbath morn,It so befel, as I did tell,That Cormoran wound his horn.The ewes were browsing o’er the downs,And scatter’d far away;The lusty lambs had drain’d their dams,And gamboll’d off to play.Now all did prick their ears right quickAstounded at the blast;As if a kite had soar’d in sight,Or fox had skulken past.And then they scour’d about the lay,And piteously did bleat,Till in the throng that rush’d alongEach one its own might meet.Cried Jack—It is a shame, I wis,A burning shame to seeThis Cormoran, a single man,Defy the whole countrie!What! tho’ no hand on Cornish landCan wield the giant’s axe:One heart there is as stout as his,And that one heart is Jack’s.And, if I know a trick or twoMay serve me in good stead,This very night my mark I’ll writeUpon the giant’s head.That day pass’d by most tediously,And Jack the hours did count,Till night came on and he was goneAlone to Michael’s mount.His horn was at his collar hung,His hatchet in his hand;Adown his side his spade was tied;A pickaxe at his back was slung;And thus he left the land.Across the bay he held his way,And swam with all his might;It was so dark he scarce could markThe mountain’s frowning height.But soon he gain’d the rocky land,And dripping from the waveHe peer’d around, till he had foundThe hateful giant’s cave.There right afore the giant’s doorHe dug a huge big hole;Full deep and wide on every sideHe scoop’d it like a mole.With muchel toil he moved the soil;And then, to hide his tricks,Above the cavern’s gaping mouthHe wove a frame of sticks.A frame of sticks just strong enoughTo bear the living sward;Which he so laid o’er as it was before,Not a trace of the hole appear’d.Then pickaxe, spade, and hatchet tooUpon the ground he cast:And he took his horn to salute the mornAnd blew a jolly blast.Now how he danced, and how he pranced,To think what he had done!But when he heard what then he heard,He well nigh burst for fun.“Holloa—Yaugh! Holloa—Yaugh!Who dares wake Cormoran?As I am good, by my father’s blood,I smell a breathing man!”Then he rubb’d his eyes and drove to rise,But woke so tardily,That while he yawn’d the morning dawn’d,And Jack bethought to flee.But while yet slumber his lids did cumberHe blew another blast;And the giant rush’d out and blink’d about,Till Jack he spied at last.What whipster is that scarce as tall as a cat?He’ll do to broil or bake:But he’s too small for me withalThis long night’s fast to break.Tis Jack, I swear! ah Jack, mon cher,This is a merry bout!I’ll pay your score—and all beforeYour mother knows you’re out.So on he strode: but soon he trodAboon Jack’s handywork;When in he fell, and roll’d pell-mellBlaspheming like a Turk.Then Jack peep’d in, and rubb’d his chin,While thus he spake his foe:—Now, as you’re good, by your father’s blood,Dear giant, swear not so.Why thus perplex’d and sorely vex’d,Kind heart! for me and mine?My mother knows I’m out;—but doesYour father know you’re in?At Jack’s keen wit the giant bitHis flesh with grief and pain:Then with mock glee—Bravo! cried he:Now help me out again.Jack quick replied: on either sideWith both your hands hold tight:While I take care to seize your hair,And pull with all my might.The Giant did as he was bid;When Jack his humour spoke:For though so brave and seeming graveHe dearly loved a joke.“Stay, stay: the air is cold up here,And you are delicate:It sure were best to breakfast first;I well can spare to wait.But broil not me, who am you seeScarce taller than a cat:Not half enough, besides I’m tough;Do pray instead take—that:”—Whereat a thump he dealt so plump,Upon the Giant’s head,That down he roll’d upon the mould,And there he lay like dead.Then Jack jump’d down and kneeling onHim pull’d his clasp-knife out;And here he gash’d, and there he slash’d,As one would crimp a trout.Now such a flood of giant’s bloodCame rushing from each wound,Jack well had need to off with speed,Or sooth he had been drown’d.Then up he sprang, and, like a cockThat dead hath struck his foe,He stood aloof upon a rock,And thus began to crow.The deed is done! the game is won!Great Cormoran is slain!Now frisk and leap, my pretty sheep,All merrily again.The deed is done! the game is won!Right glorious Jack will be:All Cornwall’s coast his fame shall boastFor this great victory!But who can know who struck the blow,Since none were here to see?What boots to Jack if he go backWithout some true trophee?For men in sooth are wondrous lothTo spend a word of praise:Though great and small are prodigalOf evil words always.But off to bear the Giant’s gearJack was too weak of limb:He scarce could stand the weight on land;Then how with it to swim?Wherefor he felt beneath his belt;Perchance he there mote wearA signet, or some love-token,Or lock of lady’s hair.For who so fierce, but love may pierceHis breast, to all unknown?What heart so sere, but springs a tearIn secret and alone?But Cormoran was not the manTo rue his lonely couch:Nor pledge nor plight of lady brightWas there within his pouch.There lay alone a steer’s thigh-bone,Sharp pointed, huge, and thick;Wherewith he used (for tell’t I must)His monstrous teeth to pick.Now this took Jack, and on his backHe slung the ugly spoil:And thus again he swam the main,Sore sick of blood and toil.The morn was bright, the breeze was light,Jack stemm’d the wave meanwhile:And all Penzance came forth to seeWho left the Giant’s isle.They mark’d him ride the buoyant tide,As one of stubborn mind;And how he cleft his way and leftA blood-red track behind.—Now Jack once more on Cornwall’s shoreUnslung his huge trophee:And all flock’d round, and mark’d with stoundWhat this strange thing mote be.So thick! so long! so sharp! so strong!They saw the truth full quick:For who but he its lord could be?’Twas Cormoran’s own tooth-pick!And who could seize that pocket-piece,Nor pay for’t with his head?And who e’er felt beneath that belt?It must be he was dead!Then did they shout with joyous rout,And Jack bore off amain:Right up Penzance they led their dance,Then led it down again.It chanced that morn the EaldormanSat there in civic state;On matters high of polityFor to deliberate.So when this noise of men and boysResounded through the street,He felt the weight of high estateAnd trembled in his seat.But soon a scout who had peep’d outThese welcome tidings told:—“They bring a lad—some thief, or pad!”Whereat he waxed more bold.For though he had no heart to beardA burglar stout and tall,He yet was glad to trounce a lad,Because he was so small.But threats soon turn to promises,And punishment to praise,When Jack walks in and on the boardThe giant’s tooth-pick lays!The Ealdorman is all astound,And scarce his eyes believes;For ’twas long syne that he did dineUpon his own fat beeves.As fitting meed for such brave deed,He fain would wealth bestow:But money there was then as rareAs now-a-days, I trow.But honour shone more bright than coinBefore Jack’s noble eyes:Awake—asleep—he still might keepUntarnish’d this fair prize.The Ealdorman then rising up,While Jack before him knelt,In Arthur’s name he dubb’d him knight,And girt him with a belt.The belt it was of good leather,With letters stamp’d of gold;And all the world might read thereonThis simple history told:—This is the valiant Cornish manWho slew the giant Cormoran!
IN Cornwall then there lived a youth,(Such may that land ne’er lack)His mother call’d him “Johnny dear,”His father call’d him Jack.In sooth he was of gentle mien,And of a nature kind:And though his body it was small,It held a mighty mind.For he had read of fairy tales,And deeds of high emprize;And envied knights who died in fights,Or lived in ladies’ eyes.And not a wrestling match there was,But Jack would try his skill;And not a fair but Jack was thereTo wreak his merry will.And while he sat upon some rock,And watch’d his sheep by day,His eyes were with his silly flock,His soul was far away.Sometimes he went to beard intentA Giant in his den;Sometimes he thought he singly foughtWith twice two hundred men:And when he found himself aground,Not caring to be slainHe sprang afoot, and off he shotTill he might breathe again.Now Jack while he sat thoughtfullyOne glorious sabbath morn,It so befel, as I did tell,That Cormoran wound his horn.The ewes were browsing o’er the downs,And scatter’d far away;The lusty lambs had drain’d their dams,And gamboll’d off to play.Now all did prick their ears right quickAstounded at the blast;As if a kite had soar’d in sight,Or fox had skulken past.And then they scour’d about the lay,And piteously did bleat,Till in the throng that rush’d alongEach one its own might meet.Cried Jack—It is a shame, I wis,A burning shame to seeThis Cormoran, a single man,Defy the whole countrie!What! tho’ no hand on Cornish landCan wield the giant’s axe:One heart there is as stout as his,And that one heart is Jack’s.And, if I know a trick or twoMay serve me in good stead,This very night my mark I’ll writeUpon the giant’s head.That day pass’d by most tediously,And Jack the hours did count,Till night came on and he was goneAlone to Michael’s mount.His horn was at his collar hung,His hatchet in his hand;Adown his side his spade was tied;A pickaxe at his back was slung;And thus he left the land.Across the bay he held his way,And swam with all his might;It was so dark he scarce could markThe mountain’s frowning height.But soon he gain’d the rocky land,And dripping from the waveHe peer’d around, till he had foundThe hateful giant’s cave.There right afore the giant’s doorHe dug a huge big hole;Full deep and wide on every sideHe scoop’d it like a mole.With muchel toil he moved the soil;And then, to hide his tricks,Above the cavern’s gaping mouthHe wove a frame of sticks.A frame of sticks just strong enoughTo bear the living sward;Which he so laid o’er as it was before,Not a trace of the hole appear’d.Then pickaxe, spade, and hatchet tooUpon the ground he cast:And he took his horn to salute the mornAnd blew a jolly blast.Now how he danced, and how he pranced,To think what he had done!But when he heard what then he heard,He well nigh burst for fun.“Holloa—Yaugh! Holloa—Yaugh!Who dares wake Cormoran?As I am good, by my father’s blood,I smell a breathing man!”Then he rubb’d his eyes and drove to rise,But woke so tardily,That while he yawn’d the morning dawn’d,And Jack bethought to flee.But while yet slumber his lids did cumberHe blew another blast;And the giant rush’d out and blink’d about,Till Jack he spied at last.What whipster is that scarce as tall as a cat?He’ll do to broil or bake:But he’s too small for me withalThis long night’s fast to break.Tis Jack, I swear! ah Jack, mon cher,This is a merry bout!I’ll pay your score—and all beforeYour mother knows you’re out.So on he strode: but soon he trodAboon Jack’s handywork;When in he fell, and roll’d pell-mellBlaspheming like a Turk.Then Jack peep’d in, and rubb’d his chin,While thus he spake his foe:—Now, as you’re good, by your father’s blood,Dear giant, swear not so.Why thus perplex’d and sorely vex’d,Kind heart! for me and mine?My mother knows I’m out;—but doesYour father know you’re in?At Jack’s keen wit the giant bitHis flesh with grief and pain:Then with mock glee—Bravo! cried he:Now help me out again.Jack quick replied: on either sideWith both your hands hold tight:While I take care to seize your hair,And pull with all my might.The Giant did as he was bid;When Jack his humour spoke:For though so brave and seeming graveHe dearly loved a joke.“Stay, stay: the air is cold up here,And you are delicate:It sure were best to breakfast first;I well can spare to wait.But broil not me, who am you seeScarce taller than a cat:Not half enough, besides I’m tough;Do pray instead take—that:”—Whereat a thump he dealt so plump,Upon the Giant’s head,That down he roll’d upon the mould,And there he lay like dead.Then Jack jump’d down and kneeling onHim pull’d his clasp-knife out;And here he gash’d, and there he slash’d,As one would crimp a trout.Now such a flood of giant’s bloodCame rushing from each wound,Jack well had need to off with speed,Or sooth he had been drown’d.Then up he sprang, and, like a cockThat dead hath struck his foe,He stood aloof upon a rock,And thus began to crow.The deed is done! the game is won!Great Cormoran is slain!Now frisk and leap, my pretty sheep,All merrily again.The deed is done! the game is won!Right glorious Jack will be:All Cornwall’s coast his fame shall boastFor this great victory!But who can know who struck the blow,Since none were here to see?What boots to Jack if he go backWithout some true trophee?For men in sooth are wondrous lothTo spend a word of praise:Though great and small are prodigalOf evil words always.But off to bear the Giant’s gearJack was too weak of limb:He scarce could stand the weight on land;Then how with it to swim?Wherefor he felt beneath his belt;Perchance he there mote wearA signet, or some love-token,Or lock of lady’s hair.For who so fierce, but love may pierceHis breast, to all unknown?What heart so sere, but springs a tearIn secret and alone?But Cormoran was not the manTo rue his lonely couch:Nor pledge nor plight of lady brightWas there within his pouch.There lay alone a steer’s thigh-bone,Sharp pointed, huge, and thick;Wherewith he used (for tell’t I must)His monstrous teeth to pick.Now this took Jack, and on his backHe slung the ugly spoil:And thus again he swam the main,Sore sick of blood and toil.The morn was bright, the breeze was light,Jack stemm’d the wave meanwhile:And all Penzance came forth to seeWho left the Giant’s isle.They mark’d him ride the buoyant tide,As one of stubborn mind;And how he cleft his way and leftA blood-red track behind.—Now Jack once more on Cornwall’s shoreUnslung his huge trophee:And all flock’d round, and mark’d with stoundWhat this strange thing mote be.So thick! so long! so sharp! so strong!They saw the truth full quick:For who but he its lord could be?’Twas Cormoran’s own tooth-pick!And who could seize that pocket-piece,Nor pay for’t with his head?And who e’er felt beneath that belt?It must be he was dead!Then did they shout with joyous rout,And Jack bore off amain:Right up Penzance they led their dance,Then led it down again.It chanced that morn the EaldormanSat there in civic state;On matters high of polityFor to deliberate.So when this noise of men and boysResounded through the street,He felt the weight of high estateAnd trembled in his seat.But soon a scout who had peep’d outThese welcome tidings told:—“They bring a lad—some thief, or pad!”Whereat he waxed more bold.For though he had no heart to beardA burglar stout and tall,He yet was glad to trounce a lad,Because he was so small.But threats soon turn to promises,And punishment to praise,When Jack walks in and on the boardThe giant’s tooth-pick lays!The Ealdorman is all astound,And scarce his eyes believes;For ’twas long syne that he did dineUpon his own fat beeves.As fitting meed for such brave deed,He fain would wealth bestow:But money there was then as rareAs now-a-days, I trow.But honour shone more bright than coinBefore Jack’s noble eyes:Awake—asleep—he still might keepUntarnish’d this fair prize.The Ealdorman then rising up,While Jack before him knelt,In Arthur’s name he dubb’d him knight,And girt him with a belt.The belt it was of good leather,With letters stamp’d of gold;And all the world might read thereonThis simple history told:—This is the valiant Cornish manWho slew the giant Cormoran!
IN Cornwall then there lived a youth,(Such may that land ne’er lack)His mother call’d him “Johnny dear,”His father call’d him Jack.
IN Cornwall then there lived a youth,
(Such may that land ne’er lack)
His mother call’d him “Johnny dear,”
His father call’d him Jack.
In sooth he was of gentle mien,And of a nature kind:And though his body it was small,It held a mighty mind.
In sooth he was of gentle mien,
And of a nature kind:
And though his body it was small,
It held a mighty mind.
For he had read of fairy tales,And deeds of high emprize;And envied knights who died in fights,Or lived in ladies’ eyes.
For he had read of fairy tales,
And deeds of high emprize;
And envied knights who died in fights,
Or lived in ladies’ eyes.
And not a wrestling match there was,But Jack would try his skill;And not a fair but Jack was thereTo wreak his merry will.
And not a wrestling match there was,
But Jack would try his skill;
And not a fair but Jack was there
To wreak his merry will.
And while he sat upon some rock,And watch’d his sheep by day,His eyes were with his silly flock,His soul was far away.
And while he sat upon some rock,
And watch’d his sheep by day,
His eyes were with his silly flock,
His soul was far away.
Sometimes he went to beard intentA Giant in his den;Sometimes he thought he singly foughtWith twice two hundred men:
Sometimes he went to beard intent
A Giant in his den;
Sometimes he thought he singly fought
With twice two hundred men:
And when he found himself aground,Not caring to be slainHe sprang afoot, and off he shotTill he might breathe again.
And when he found himself aground,
Not caring to be slain
He sprang afoot, and off he shot
Till he might breathe again.
Now Jack while he sat thoughtfullyOne glorious sabbath morn,It so befel, as I did tell,That Cormoran wound his horn.
Now Jack while he sat thoughtfully
One glorious sabbath morn,
It so befel, as I did tell,
That Cormoran wound his horn.
The ewes were browsing o’er the downs,And scatter’d far away;The lusty lambs had drain’d their dams,And gamboll’d off to play.
The ewes were browsing o’er the downs,
And scatter’d far away;
The lusty lambs had drain’d their dams,
And gamboll’d off to play.
Now all did prick their ears right quickAstounded at the blast;As if a kite had soar’d in sight,Or fox had skulken past.
Now all did prick their ears right quick
Astounded at the blast;
As if a kite had soar’d in sight,
Or fox had skulken past.
And then they scour’d about the lay,And piteously did bleat,Till in the throng that rush’d alongEach one its own might meet.
And then they scour’d about the lay,
And piteously did bleat,
Till in the throng that rush’d along
Each one its own might meet.
Cried Jack—It is a shame, I wis,A burning shame to seeThis Cormoran, a single man,Defy the whole countrie!
Cried Jack—It is a shame, I wis,
A burning shame to see
This Cormoran, a single man,
Defy the whole countrie!
What! tho’ no hand on Cornish landCan wield the giant’s axe:One heart there is as stout as his,And that one heart is Jack’s.
What! tho’ no hand on Cornish land
Can wield the giant’s axe:
One heart there is as stout as his,
And that one heart is Jack’s.
And, if I know a trick or twoMay serve me in good stead,This very night my mark I’ll writeUpon the giant’s head.
And, if I know a trick or two
May serve me in good stead,
This very night my mark I’ll write
Upon the giant’s head.
That day pass’d by most tediously,And Jack the hours did count,Till night came on and he was goneAlone to Michael’s mount.
That day pass’d by most tediously,
And Jack the hours did count,
Till night came on and he was gone
Alone to Michael’s mount.
His horn was at his collar hung,His hatchet in his hand;Adown his side his spade was tied;A pickaxe at his back was slung;And thus he left the land.
His horn was at his collar hung,
His hatchet in his hand;
Adown his side his spade was tied;
A pickaxe at his back was slung;
And thus he left the land.
Across the bay he held his way,And swam with all his might;It was so dark he scarce could markThe mountain’s frowning height.
Across the bay he held his way,
And swam with all his might;
It was so dark he scarce could mark
The mountain’s frowning height.
But soon he gain’d the rocky land,And dripping from the waveHe peer’d around, till he had foundThe hateful giant’s cave.
But soon he gain’d the rocky land,
And dripping from the wave
He peer’d around, till he had found
The hateful giant’s cave.
There right afore the giant’s doorHe dug a huge big hole;Full deep and wide on every sideHe scoop’d it like a mole.
There right afore the giant’s door
He dug a huge big hole;
Full deep and wide on every side
He scoop’d it like a mole.
With muchel toil he moved the soil;And then, to hide his tricks,Above the cavern’s gaping mouthHe wove a frame of sticks.
With muchel toil he moved the soil;
And then, to hide his tricks,
Above the cavern’s gaping mouth
He wove a frame of sticks.
A frame of sticks just strong enoughTo bear the living sward;Which he so laid o’er as it was before,Not a trace of the hole appear’d.
A frame of sticks just strong enough
To bear the living sward;
Which he so laid o’er as it was before,
Not a trace of the hole appear’d.
Then pickaxe, spade, and hatchet tooUpon the ground he cast:And he took his horn to salute the mornAnd blew a jolly blast.
Then pickaxe, spade, and hatchet too
Upon the ground he cast:
And he took his horn to salute the morn
And blew a jolly blast.
Now how he danced, and how he pranced,To think what he had done!But when he heard what then he heard,He well nigh burst for fun.
Now how he danced, and how he pranced,
To think what he had done!
But when he heard what then he heard,
He well nigh burst for fun.
“Holloa—Yaugh! Holloa—Yaugh!Who dares wake Cormoran?As I am good, by my father’s blood,I smell a breathing man!”
“Holloa—Yaugh! Holloa—Yaugh!
Who dares wake Cormoran?
As I am good, by my father’s blood,
I smell a breathing man!”
Then he rubb’d his eyes and drove to rise,But woke so tardily,That while he yawn’d the morning dawn’d,And Jack bethought to flee.
Then he rubb’d his eyes and drove to rise,
But woke so tardily,
That while he yawn’d the morning dawn’d,
And Jack bethought to flee.
But while yet slumber his lids did cumberHe blew another blast;And the giant rush’d out and blink’d about,Till Jack he spied at last.
But while yet slumber his lids did cumber
He blew another blast;
And the giant rush’d out and blink’d about,
Till Jack he spied at last.
What whipster is that scarce as tall as a cat?He’ll do to broil or bake:But he’s too small for me withalThis long night’s fast to break.
What whipster is that scarce as tall as a cat?
He’ll do to broil or bake:
But he’s too small for me withal
This long night’s fast to break.
Tis Jack, I swear! ah Jack, mon cher,This is a merry bout!I’ll pay your score—and all beforeYour mother knows you’re out.
Tis Jack, I swear! ah Jack, mon cher,
This is a merry bout!
I’ll pay your score—and all before
Your mother knows you’re out.
So on he strode: but soon he trodAboon Jack’s handywork;When in he fell, and roll’d pell-mellBlaspheming like a Turk.
So on he strode: but soon he trod
Aboon Jack’s handywork;
When in he fell, and roll’d pell-mell
Blaspheming like a Turk.
Then Jack peep’d in, and rubb’d his chin,While thus he spake his foe:—Now, as you’re good, by your father’s blood,Dear giant, swear not so.
Then Jack peep’d in, and rubb’d his chin,
While thus he spake his foe:—
Now, as you’re good, by your father’s blood,
Dear giant, swear not so.
Why thus perplex’d and sorely vex’d,Kind heart! for me and mine?My mother knows I’m out;—but doesYour father know you’re in?
Why thus perplex’d and sorely vex’d,
Kind heart! for me and mine?
My mother knows I’m out;—but does
Your father know you’re in?
At Jack’s keen wit the giant bitHis flesh with grief and pain:Then with mock glee—Bravo! cried he:Now help me out again.
At Jack’s keen wit the giant bit
His flesh with grief and pain:
Then with mock glee—Bravo! cried he:
Now help me out again.
Jack quick replied: on either sideWith both your hands hold tight:While I take care to seize your hair,And pull with all my might.
Jack quick replied: on either side
With both your hands hold tight:
While I take care to seize your hair,
And pull with all my might.
The Giant did as he was bid;When Jack his humour spoke:For though so brave and seeming graveHe dearly loved a joke.
The Giant did as he was bid;
When Jack his humour spoke:
For though so brave and seeming grave
He dearly loved a joke.
“Stay, stay: the air is cold up here,And you are delicate:It sure were best to breakfast first;I well can spare to wait.
“Stay, stay: the air is cold up here,
And you are delicate:
It sure were best to breakfast first;
I well can spare to wait.
But broil not me, who am you seeScarce taller than a cat:Not half enough, besides I’m tough;Do pray instead take—that:”—
But broil not me, who am you see
Scarce taller than a cat:
Not half enough, besides I’m tough;
Do pray instead take—that:”—
Whereat a thump he dealt so plump,Upon the Giant’s head,That down he roll’d upon the mould,And there he lay like dead.
Whereat a thump he dealt so plump,
Upon the Giant’s head,
That down he roll’d upon the mould,
And there he lay like dead.
Then Jack jump’d down and kneeling onHim pull’d his clasp-knife out;And here he gash’d, and there he slash’d,As one would crimp a trout.
Then Jack jump’d down and kneeling on
Him pull’d his clasp-knife out;
And here he gash’d, and there he slash’d,
As one would crimp a trout.
Now such a flood of giant’s bloodCame rushing from each wound,Jack well had need to off with speed,Or sooth he had been drown’d.
Now such a flood of giant’s blood
Came rushing from each wound,
Jack well had need to off with speed,
Or sooth he had been drown’d.
Then up he sprang, and, like a cockThat dead hath struck his foe,He stood aloof upon a rock,And thus began to crow.
Then up he sprang, and, like a cock
That dead hath struck his foe,
He stood aloof upon a rock,
And thus began to crow.
The deed is done! the game is won!Great Cormoran is slain!Now frisk and leap, my pretty sheep,All merrily again.
The deed is done! the game is won!
Great Cormoran is slain!
Now frisk and leap, my pretty sheep,
All merrily again.
The deed is done! the game is won!Right glorious Jack will be:All Cornwall’s coast his fame shall boastFor this great victory!
The deed is done! the game is won!
Right glorious Jack will be:
All Cornwall’s coast his fame shall boast
For this great victory!
But who can know who struck the blow,Since none were here to see?What boots to Jack if he go backWithout some true trophee?
But who can know who struck the blow,
Since none were here to see?
What boots to Jack if he go back
Without some true trophee?
For men in sooth are wondrous lothTo spend a word of praise:Though great and small are prodigalOf evil words always.
For men in sooth are wondrous loth
To spend a word of praise:
Though great and small are prodigal
Of evil words always.
But off to bear the Giant’s gearJack was too weak of limb:He scarce could stand the weight on land;Then how with it to swim?
But off to bear the Giant’s gear
Jack was too weak of limb:
He scarce could stand the weight on land;
Then how with it to swim?
Wherefor he felt beneath his belt;Perchance he there mote wearA signet, or some love-token,Or lock of lady’s hair.
Wherefor he felt beneath his belt;
Perchance he there mote wear
A signet, or some love-token,
Or lock of lady’s hair.
For who so fierce, but love may pierceHis breast, to all unknown?What heart so sere, but springs a tearIn secret and alone?
For who so fierce, but love may pierce
His breast, to all unknown?
What heart so sere, but springs a tear
In secret and alone?
But Cormoran was not the manTo rue his lonely couch:Nor pledge nor plight of lady brightWas there within his pouch.
But Cormoran was not the man
To rue his lonely couch:
Nor pledge nor plight of lady bright
Was there within his pouch.
There lay alone a steer’s thigh-bone,Sharp pointed, huge, and thick;Wherewith he used (for tell’t I must)His monstrous teeth to pick.
There lay alone a steer’s thigh-bone,
Sharp pointed, huge, and thick;
Wherewith he used (for tell’t I must)
His monstrous teeth to pick.
Now this took Jack, and on his backHe slung the ugly spoil:And thus again he swam the main,Sore sick of blood and toil.
Now this took Jack, and on his back
He slung the ugly spoil:
And thus again he swam the main,
Sore sick of blood and toil.
The morn was bright, the breeze was light,Jack stemm’d the wave meanwhile:And all Penzance came forth to seeWho left the Giant’s isle.
The morn was bright, the breeze was light,
Jack stemm’d the wave meanwhile:
And all Penzance came forth to see
Who left the Giant’s isle.
They mark’d him ride the buoyant tide,As one of stubborn mind;And how he cleft his way and leftA blood-red track behind.—
They mark’d him ride the buoyant tide,
As one of stubborn mind;
And how he cleft his way and left
A blood-red track behind.—
Now Jack once more on Cornwall’s shoreUnslung his huge trophee:And all flock’d round, and mark’d with stoundWhat this strange thing mote be.
Now Jack once more on Cornwall’s shore
Unslung his huge trophee:
And all flock’d round, and mark’d with stound
What this strange thing mote be.
So thick! so long! so sharp! so strong!They saw the truth full quick:For who but he its lord could be?’Twas Cormoran’s own tooth-pick!
So thick! so long! so sharp! so strong!
They saw the truth full quick:
For who but he its lord could be?
’Twas Cormoran’s own tooth-pick!
And who could seize that pocket-piece,Nor pay for’t with his head?And who e’er felt beneath that belt?It must be he was dead!
And who could seize that pocket-piece,
Nor pay for’t with his head?
And who e’er felt beneath that belt?
It must be he was dead!
Then did they shout with joyous rout,And Jack bore off amain:Right up Penzance they led their dance,Then led it down again.
Then did they shout with joyous rout,
And Jack bore off amain:
Right up Penzance they led their dance,
Then led it down again.
It chanced that morn the EaldormanSat there in civic state;On matters high of polityFor to deliberate.
It chanced that morn the Ealdorman
Sat there in civic state;
On matters high of polity
For to deliberate.
So when this noise of men and boysResounded through the street,He felt the weight of high estateAnd trembled in his seat.
So when this noise of men and boys
Resounded through the street,
He felt the weight of high estate
And trembled in his seat.
But soon a scout who had peep’d outThese welcome tidings told:—“They bring a lad—some thief, or pad!”Whereat he waxed more bold.
But soon a scout who had peep’d out
These welcome tidings told:—
“They bring a lad—some thief, or pad!”
Whereat he waxed more bold.
For though he had no heart to beardA burglar stout and tall,He yet was glad to trounce a lad,Because he was so small.
For though he had no heart to beard
A burglar stout and tall,
He yet was glad to trounce a lad,
Because he was so small.
But threats soon turn to promises,And punishment to praise,When Jack walks in and on the boardThe giant’s tooth-pick lays!
But threats soon turn to promises,
And punishment to praise,
When Jack walks in and on the board
The giant’s tooth-pick lays!
The Ealdorman is all astound,And scarce his eyes believes;For ’twas long syne that he did dineUpon his own fat beeves.
The Ealdorman is all astound,
And scarce his eyes believes;
For ’twas long syne that he did dine
Upon his own fat beeves.
As fitting meed for such brave deed,He fain would wealth bestow:But money there was then as rareAs now-a-days, I trow.
As fitting meed for such brave deed,
He fain would wealth bestow:
But money there was then as rare
As now-a-days, I trow.
But honour shone more bright than coinBefore Jack’s noble eyes:Awake—asleep—he still might keepUntarnish’d this fair prize.
But honour shone more bright than coin
Before Jack’s noble eyes:
Awake—asleep—he still might keep
Untarnish’d this fair prize.
The Ealdorman then rising up,While Jack before him knelt,In Arthur’s name he dubb’d him knight,And girt him with a belt.
The Ealdorman then rising up,
While Jack before him knelt,
In Arthur’s name he dubb’d him knight,
And girt him with a belt.
The belt it was of good leather,With letters stamp’d of gold;And all the world might read thereonThis simple history told:—
The belt it was of good leather,
With letters stamp’d of gold;
And all the world might read thereon
This simple history told:—
This is the valiant Cornish manWho slew the giant Cormoran!
This is the valiant Cornish man
Who slew the giant Cormoran!