Then up he rose, and forth they went — Arthur Guiterman

"He stood with his muzzle thrust out through the door The whole forty days of that terrible pour! Because of which drenching, the Sages unfold, The Nose of a Healthy Dog always is Cold."

"The three-toed tree-toad Sings his sweet ode To the moon; The funny bunny And his honey Trip in tune."

"I breathed a song into the air; That little song of beauty rare Is flying still, for all I know, Around the world by Radio."

"Oh, the Brown Missouri Mule has a copper-plated throat, And the welkin splits apart when he hits an upper note."

"The Fawns dont dine When a Wolfs about, And the Porcupine Puts his quill points out."

"Oh, who would choose to be a traveler?— That anxious railway-guide unraveler Who spends his nights in berths and bunks, His days in chaperoning trunks; Who stands in line at gates and wickets To spend his means on costly tickets To Irkutsk, Liverpool and Yap And other dots upon the map."