Page:Collected poems vol 2 de la mare.djvu/26

 N the black furrow of a field
 * I saw an old witch-hare this night;

And she cocked a lissome ear,
 * And she eyed the moon so bright,

And she nibbled of the green;
 * And I whispered "Wh-s-st! witch-hare,"

Away like a ghostie o'er the field
 * She fled, and left the moonlight there.