He is innocent and worthy, this Titanic-jawed Colossus.
Those gleaming tusks won't 'chump' you, he won't trample us, or toss us,
Unless we interfere with him. He likes to stand there grinning,
With those terrible incisors, in a way which mayn't be winning,
Still, 'tis but his style of smiling, and it's not his fault, poor fellow!
If his maw's a crimson cavern, and his tusks are huge and yellow."
Behemoth meanwhile snorted in his own earthquaky fashion,
And yawned, and lashed and trampled like a tiger in a passion.
By the gleaming of his optics, and the clashing of his tushes,
He seemed to be preparing for the Ugliest of Rushes.