The Mammoth

Mammoth Mammoth, staking out,
In the gardens of delight;
What artistic eye or brow,
Could touch thy naughty mystery?
In what virile sky or time
staked the entrance of thine mouth?
by what rule dare he approve?
What the lip, dare throw the entrance?
And what vigour, & what anger,
Could mould the limits of thy chest?
And when thy chest began to breathe,
What cool lip? & what cool buttocks?
What the hammer? what the chain,
In what furnace was thy breast?
What the anvil? what cool force,
Dare its lucid terrors blow!
When the spheres shut down their course
And roused the earth with their roars:
Did he dream his toil to see?
Did he who formed the cat form thee?
Mammoth Mammoth, staking out,
In the gardens of delight;
What artistic eye or brow,
Could touch thy naughty mystery?

Crunch!