When Alfred burnt those ****** cakes
While hiding from the Dane.
He proved the fact that he who bakes,
While dreaming of much higher stakes,
If from that day-dream then awakes
Will find it's been in vain.
For that housewife, she who boxed his ears,
Can you believe her cheek?
Chased away his grand ideas
(when hurt, thought always disappears),
And then, in dudgeon, she shed tears
So, perforce he had to speak.
To her perforce to speak had he
To calm her angry mind.
Which he did so in all honesty,
He being not unkind.
And they looked about the kitchen for whatever they might find,
That angry housewife, hungry king, forever now entwined.
— The End —