e a sound
Reaches those solitudes profound,
But silence and darkness close it round,--
A horrible habitation!
Its streets are the sewers, where rats abound;
Where swarms, unstifled, unstarved, undrowned,
Their ravenous population.

Underground Paris has heard of the Fair;
And up from the river, from alley and square,
To the wonderful palace the rats repair;
And one old forager, grizzled and spare,--
The wisest to plan and the boldest to dare,
To smell out a prize or to find out a snare,--
In some dark corner, beneath some stair
(I never learned how, and I never knew where),
Has gnawed his way into the grand affair;
First one rat, and then a pair,
And now a dozen or more are there.
They caper and scamper, and blink and stare,
While the drowsy watchman nods in his chair.
But little a hungry rat will care
For the loveliest lacquered or inlaid ware,
Jewels most precious, or stuffs most rare;--
There's a marvelous smell of cheese in the air!
They all make a rush for the delicate fare;
But the shrewd old fellow squeaks out, "Beware!
'T is a prize indeed, but I say, forbear!
For cats may catch us and men may scare,
And a well-set trap is a rat's despair;
But if we are wise, and would have our share
With perfect safety to hide and hair,
Now listen, and we will our plans prepare."

The watchman rouses, the rats are gone;
On a thousand windows gleams the dawn;
And now once more
Through every door,
With hustle and bustle, the great crowds pour;
And nobody hears a soft little sound,
As of sawing or gnawing, somewhere underground.

At length, the judges, going their round,
Awarding the prizes, enter the hall,
Where, amid cheeses big and small,
Reposes the sovereign of them all.
They put their tape round it, and tap it and bore it;
And bowing before it,
As if to adore it,
Like worshipers of the sun, they stand,--
Slice in hand,
Pleased and bland,
While their bosoms glow and their hearts expand.
They smell and they taste;
And, the rind replaced,
The foremost, smacking his lips, says: "Messieurs!
Of all fine cheeses at market or fair,--
Holland or Rochefort, Stilton or Cheshire,
Neufchatel, Milanese,--
There never was cheese,
I am free to declare,
That at all could compare
With this gr