Tony

Whisk!--away in the sun

flying feHis itltleet

Scamper as softly fleet

As ever the rabbits run.

He is gone like a flash, and then

In a breath is back again.

The silky flosses shine

Down to his very toes:

Tipped with white is his nose:

And his ears are fleeces fine,

Blowing a shadow-grace

Breeze-like about his face.

Quick to a whistled call

Hearkens his ready ear,

Scarcely waiting to hear;

Silk locks, white feet, all

Rush, like a furry elf

Tumbling over himself.

How does he sleep? He winks

Twice with his mischief eyes;

Dozes a bit; then lies

Down with a sigh; then thinks

Over some roguish play,

And is up and away!