Oh, ponder, friend, the porcupine
Refresh your recollection
And sit a moment, to define
His means of self-protection
How truly fortified is he!
Where is the beast his double
In forethought of emergency
And readiness for trouble?
Recall his figure, and his shade
How deftly planned and clearly
For slithering through the dappled glade
Unseen, or pretty nearly
Yet should an alien eye discern
His presence in the woodland
How little has he left to learn
Of self-defense! My good land!
For he can run, as swift as sound
To where his goose may hang high
Or thrust his head against the ground
And tunnel half to Shanghai
Or he can climb the dizziest bough
Unhesitant, mechanic
And, resting, dash from off his brow
The bitter beads of panic
Or should pursuers press him hot
One scarcely needs to mention
His quick and cruel barbs, that got
Shakespearean attention
Or driven to his final ditch
To his extremest thicket
He'll fight with claws and molars (which
Is not considered cricket)
How amply armored, he, to fend
The fear of chase that haunts him!
How well prepared our little friend!
And who the devil wants him?