The little bit of bread and meat Left in my pocket overnight. So, in a hollow, snug and green, I sat beside a burn, and dipped The dry bread in an icy pool; And munched a breakfast fresh and cool... And then sat gaping like a fool... For, right before my very eyes, With lugs acock, and eyes astare, I saw again the selfsame hare. So, up I jumped, and off she slipped: And I kept sight of her until I stumbled in a hole, and tripped; And came a heavy, headlong spill: And she, ere I’d the wit to rise, Was o’er the hill, and out of sight: And, sore and shaken with the tumbling, And sicker at my foot for stumbling, I cursed my luck, and went on, grumbling, The way her flying heels had fled. The sky was cloudless overhead; And just alive with larks asinging: And, in a twinkling, I was swinging Across the windy hills, lighthearted. A kestrel at my footstep started, Just pouncing on a frightened mouse, And hung o’erhead with wings a-hover: Through rustling heath an adder darted: A hundred rabbits bobbed to cover: A weasel, sleek and rusty-red, Popped out of sight as quick as winking: I saw a grizzled vixen slinking Behind a clucking brood of grouse That rose and cackled at my coming: And all about my way were flying The peewit, with their slow wings creaking And little jack-snipe darted, drumming: And now and then a golden plover Or redshank piped with reedy whistle. But never shaken bent or thistle Betrayed the quarry I was seeking And not an instant, anywhere Did I clap eyes upon a hare.