He is an ancient Halfbaker,
And he stoppeth one of three.
'By thy acerbic tongue and glittering pate,
Thou must be name'd Curry?'
The Bakery's doors are opened wide,
And I am just logged in;
The guests are met, the categories set:
May'st the baking day begin.'
One types him with his skinny hands,
'That idea's baked', quoth he.
'Hold off! post links, chrome-dom'ed loon!'
Eftsoons the "Baked" dropt he.
He spears him with his sharpen'd tongue--
The Trolling-Pest stood still,
Then rants just like a three years' child:
The 'baker holds his steel.
The Trolling-pest chokes on 'bones:
He cannot take the strain;
And thus "Baked" on that ancient man,
The bright-eyed Halfbaker.
'The ship was cheered, then cows appeared,
A-lowing at the rail,
Towards the fall, the public thrall,
E'er close the thunderous drop.
Bones rain'd down, right and left,
Out of the sea came they!
A single croissant, lone and bright
The idea-posters say?
Higher and higher pile the 'bones,
Till over the mast at noon--'
The Trolling-pest here beat his breast,
And he becom'st a loud buffoon.
The bride will soon pace into the hall,
Red as a rose is she;
Nodding their heads before her goes
The 'baking cit'zenry.
The Trolling-pest he beat his breast,
And he chooseth not to hear;
And then spake twenty reasoned men,
All longtime halfbakers.
And now the storm-blast came, but he
Was tyrannous and strong:
Though struck about the head with things,
He complain'st about a song.
Then [thumbwax], [ravenswood] and [po],
Removal pursued with yell and blow
[StarChaser] calls a Troll a Troll,
[quarterbaker] shows his hand,
Trolling-pest held fast, chained to the mast,
An unrepentant man.
And now there came [waugsqueke], [T_E_A],
And it grew wondrous cold:
[-alx], mast-high, came floating by,
And [ravenswood], again.
And through the drifts of snowy bones,
There came a dismal wail,
Not care for men nor beasts I ken--
If thou read'st the lines between.
There was [mihali] here, and [CoolerKing],
And [goff] and [NeverDie]:
Then [angel] called out "Loser",
And [thumbwax] reason tried,
,
At length did write our own [Guy Fox],
In accents clear and still,
As if it had been a Christian soul,
Who bore no-one ill will.
It seem'd the effort was in vain,
[TeaTotal] had a go,
[Rods Tiger] couldn't make a dent
The air did spit with acid tones;
Then [lummox] steered right through!
And good [calum] lent his calming voice;
Then [pottedstu] did follow,
And every day, for food or play,
We came to the Troll-pest's hollo!
In mist or cloud, on recent page,
We perched for vespers nine;
Whiles all the night, without respite,
The blithe Troll-pest opines.'
'God save thee, Trolling-pest!
From the fiends, that plague thee thus!
Why look'st thou so?'
With my cross-bow
I'd gladly shoot the cuss!