s not at all afraid
Of common sounds like these.

She frisked and gambolled with delight,
And cropped a leaf or two
Of clover and of tender grass,
That glistened in the dew.

What was it, then, that made her start,
And run away so fast?
She heard the distant sound of hounds,
She heard the huntsman's blast.

Tally-ho!-hoy tally-ho!
The hounds are in full cry;
Ehew! ehew--in scarlet coats
The men are sweeping by.

So off she set with a spring and a bound,
Over the meadows and open ground,
Faster than hunter and faster than hound
And on--and on--till she lost the sound,
And away went the little Hare.

Aunt Effie

Peter and the Hare

Thoughtless little Peter,
With his little gun,
Went out by the woodside
For a little fun;
Saw a happy little hare,
Who on clover fed--
With his little gun took aim
And shot him in the head.

Thoughtful little Peter,
Sad for what he'd done,
Sat down on a stump, and there
By it laid his gun;
Wished that he could bring to life
That little hare so still;
"Never more," said he, "will I
A harmless creature kill."

Epitaph on a Hare

Here lies whom hound did ne'er pursue,
Nor swifter greyhound follow,
Whose foot ne'er tainted morning dew
Nor ear heard huntsman's halloo.

Old Tiney, surliest of his kind,
Who, nursed with tender care,
And to domestic bounds confined,
Was still a wild Jack-hare.

Though duly from my hand he took
His pittance every night,
He did it with a jealous look,
And when he could he would bite.

On twigs of hawthorn he regaled,
On pippin's russet peel;
And when his juicy salads fail'd,
Sliced carrot pleased him well.

A Turkey carpet was his lawn,
Whereon he loved to bound,
To skip and gambol like a fawn,
And swing himself around.

His frisking was at evening hours
For then he'd lost his fear!
But most before approaching showers,
Or when a storm drew near.

Eight years and five round-rolling moons
He thus saw steal away,
Dozing out all his idle noons
And every night at play.

I kept him for his humour's sake,
For he would oft beguile
My heart of thoughts that made it ache,
And force me to a smile.

But now, beneath this walnut shade,
He finds his long last home,
And waits, in snug concealment laid