The Rabbit of Malvern Hills.
57
Bunny sought the freer air
From the columns closing in,
From the strange, confusing din;
Till he hopped below the hill,
And saw lying close and still,
Men with muskets in their hands;
Never Bunny understands
That hypocrisy of sleep
In the vigils grim they keep,
As recumbent on that spot,
They elude the level shot.
One, a grave and wearied man,
Thinking of his wife and child
Far beyond the Rapidan,
By the Androscoggin wild,
Felt the little rabbit creep,
Nestling by his arm and side.
Wakened from strategic sleep
To that soft appeal replied;
Drew him to his blackened breast,
