There was a little rabbit sprig
Which, being little, was not big;

He always walked upon his feet,
And never fasted when he eat,

When from a place he ran away
He never at that place did stay.

And when he ran, as I was told,
He ne’er stood still for young or old;

Though ne’er instructed by a cat,
He knew a mouse was not a rat.

One day, as I am certified,
He took a whim and fairly died;

And, as I’m told by men of sense,
He never has been walking since.