The Weasel In The Granary.

[1]      A weasel through a hole contrived to squeeze,      (She was recovering from disease,)      Which led her to a farmer's hoard.      There lodged, her wasted form she cherish'd;      Heaven knows the lard and victuals stored      That by her gnawing perish'd!      Of which the consequence      Was sudden corpulence.      A week or so was past,      When having fully broken fast.      A noise she heard, and hurried      To find the hole by which she came,      And seem'd to find it not the same;      So round she ran, most sadly flurried;      And, coming back, thrust out her head,      Which, sticking there, she said,      'This is the hole, there can't be blunder:      What makes it now so small, I wonder,      Where, but the other day, I pass'd with ease?'      A rat her trouble sees,      And cries, 'But with an emptier belly;      You enter'd lean, and lean must sally.'      What I have said to you      Has eke been said to not a few,      Who, in a vast variety of cases,[2]      Have ventured into such-like places.