I.

Bless us, and save us! What's here? Pop! At a bound, A tiny brown creature, grotesque in his grace, Is sitting before us, and washing his face With his little fat paws overlapping; Where does he hail from? Where? Why, _there_, Underground, From a nook just as cosey, And tranquil, and dozy, As e'er wooed to Sybarite napping (But none ever caught _him_ a-napping). Don't you see his burrow so quaint and queer?