The mole that snouted up that loose red mound
Of earth; the worm that turned those worm-casts; now,
They are enough to pucker any man’s brow.
Once (I was only a boy) I caught a mole,
And he was angry, and bit a little hole
In the ball of my thumb. Worms I have often found,
Glow-worms, and ones like this that slithe around.
It’s funny to think of the life that’s under ground.