The Changeling

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!