It was quarter of dawn, all the Whos, still a-bed, all the Whos still a-snooze when he packed up his sled,
Packed it up with their presents! Their ribbons! Their wrappings!
Their snoof and their fozzels! Their trimblers and truppings!
Ten thousand feet up! Up the side of Mt. Crumpit,
He rode with his load to the tip top to dump it!
"Pooh-Pooh to the Whos!" he was grinchily humming.
"They're finding out now that no Christmas is coming!
They're just waking up! I know just what they'll do!
Their mouths will hang open a minute or two
Then the Whos down in Whoville will all cry boo-hoo!"