Ontario’s beaver, without demur,
To form his hat did lend its fur:
His frill was of the cambric fine,
And his neckcloth starched and aquiline;
And oh, the eye with pleasure dwells
On his white jean indescribables;
And he throws the locks from his forehead fair,
And he pants, and pants, and pants for air;
What is the reason I cannot tell,
There is a cause—I know it well;