He has skulls, ribs, and vertebræ there, ~Bloudie Jacke~! And thigh-bones;--and, though it's so dim, Yet it's plain to be seen He has pick'd them quite clean,-- She expects to be torn limb from limb, So grim He looks at her--and she looks at him! She has given him a bun and a roll, ~Bloudie Jacke~! She has given him a roll and a bun, And a Shrewsbury cake, Of ~Pailin's~[42] own make, Which she happened to take ere her run She begun-- She'd been used to a luncheon at One. It's "a pretty particular Fix," ~Bloudie Jacke~! --Above,--there's the Maiden that's dead; Below--growling at her-- There's that Cannibal Cur, Who at present is munching her bread, Instead Of her leg,--or her arm,--or her head. It's "a pretty particular Fix," ~Bloudie Jacke~! She is caught like a mouse in a trap;-- Stay! there's something, I think, That has slipp'd through a chink, And fall'n, by a singular hap, Slap, Into poor little Mary-Anne's lap! It's a very fine little gold ring, ~Bloudie Jacke~! Yet, though slight, it's remarkably stout, But it's made a sad stain, Which will always remain On her frock--for Blood will not wash out; I doubt Salts of Lemon won't bring it about! She has grasp'd that gold ring in her hand, ~Bloudie Jacke~! In an instant she stands on the floor, She makes but one bound O'er the back of the hound, And a hop, skip, and jump to the door, And she's o'er The drawbridge she'd traversed before! Her hair's floating loose in the breeze, ~Bloudie Jacke~! For gone is her "bonnet of blue." --Now the Barbican's past!-- Her legs "go it" as fast As two drumsticks a-beating tattoo, As they do At Réveillie, Parade, or Review! She has run into Shrewsbury town, ~Bloudie Jacke~! She has called out the Beadle and May'r, And the Justice of Peace, And the Rural Police, Till "Battle Field" swarms like a Fair,-- And see there!-- E'en the Parson's beginning to swear!! There's a pretty to-do in your Tower, ~Bloudie Jacke~! In your Tower there's a pretty to-do! All the people of Shrewsbury Playing old gooseberry With your choice bits of taste and _virtù_; Each bijou Is upset in their search after you!