Classic Poem

You timid little quadruped!
Why do you shake your glossy head,
And blink in sore affright,
Like children that fall out of bed
In middle of the night?

Nay, does it fill your heart with shame
To wear this soft, gray dress, the same
You wore perhaps last year?
Yet you can rank yon jeweled dame
In modesty, my dear.

What! Have you no gay cavalier
To whisper flattery in your ear,
Bird, toad, or cricket?
Then tell, how did you get in here
Without a ticket?

But now I must be in a dream,
You're one of Cinderella's team
So cute and chipper!
Tell me, how can I catch a gleam
Of that glass slipper?

Mousie, like me, you love the best
Your own soft, cosy little nest,
Far from this bustle,
Whose " charity " seems half suppressed
By silken rustle.

But see you giant with a broom!
Intent upon your awful doom
An usher comes!
Quick! Creep into the supper room
And get some crumbs.

Yet 'tis the " shining share " of Burns
A little " beastie " safely turns
From threatened ill!
Thanks to the plowman bard who earns
Our own good-will!