The Tiger extended, in uttering a roar,
A mouth that you might have mistook for the door;
But in such a dilemma, I warn you, beware
How you enter in haste such a dark thoroughfare;
For all who have pass’d through the passage they say,
Have terribly painted their coats by the way.
Poor Bruin declared it was unbearable quite,
And was in a brown study till day turn’d to night;
The Axis turn’d round in his rage, and just then
The Sloth look’d as black as the ink in my pen.