The snail carries his house on his back...
The frugal snail, with forecast of repose,
Carries his house with him wherever he goes;
Peeps out, -and if there comes a shower of rain,
Retreats to his small domicile again.
Touch but a tip of him, a horn -'tis well-
He curls up in his sanctuary shell.
He's his own landlord, his own tenant. Stay
Long as he will, he dreads no Quarter Day*.
Himself he boards and lodges, both invites
And feasts himself; sleeps with himself o' nights.
He spares the upholsterer trouble to procure
Chattels**; himself is his own furniture,
And his sole riches. Wheresoever he roam,
-Knock when you will- he's sure to be at home.
*Quarter Day is when people paid rent in England.
**Chattel refers to your property (except for real estate).
Written by Charles Lamb.
Read by Jason Pomerantz.