Classic Poem

ANN , Ann!
 Come! quick as you can!
There's a fish that talks
 In the frying-pan.
Out of the fat,
 As clear as glass,
He put up his mouth
 And moaned ‘Alas!’
Oh, most mournful,
 ‘Alas, alack!’
Then turned to his sizzling,
 And sank him back.