THE HARE by Walter de la Mare

 
 
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THE HARE

 
In the black furrow of a field
I saw an old witch-hare this night;
And she cocked her lissome ear,
And she eyed the moon so bright,
And she nibbled o' the green;
And I whispered 'Whsst! witch-hare,'
Away like a ghostie o'er the field
She fled, and left the moonlight there.
Walter de la Mare,
 
 
 
 

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