The beaver builds a dam-fine house,
The mouse, a hole-in-one,
The moose and goose, while on the loose,
Take shelter in the sun;
The pigeon curls up in her nest;
Raccoon believes his den is best.
It seems that every one abroad
Creates his ideal home,
Yet every head at last, when dead,
Will end up in the loam.
Therefore, I say, enjoy your port,
Your burrow, hovel, cubby, fort,
And be advised that what you’ve prized
Won’t be your utter last resort,
But rather you’ll take company
With all the beasts moved on
To their reward under the sward,

