A BUNNY ROMANCE.
he Bunnies are a feeble folkWhose weakness is their strength.To shun a gun a Bun will runTo almost any length.Now once, when war alarms were rifeIn the ancestral woodWhere the kingdom of the BunniesFor centuries had stood,
he Bunnies are a feeble folkWhose weakness is their strength.To shun a gun a Bun will runTo almost any length.Now once, when war alarms were rifeIn the ancestral woodWhere the kingdom of the BunniesFor centuries had stood,
he Bunnies are a feeble folkWhose weakness is their strength.To shun a gun a Bun will runTo almost any length.Now once, when war alarms were rifeIn the ancestral woodWhere the kingdom of the BunniesFor centuries had stood,
he Bunnies are a feeble folkWhose weakness is their strength.To shun a gun a Bun will runTo almost any length.Now once, when war alarms were rifeIn the ancestral woodWhere the kingdom of the BunniesFor centuries had stood,
he Bunnies are a feeble folkWhose weakness is their strength.To shun a gun a Bun will runTo almost any length.
he Bunnies are a feeble folk
Whose weakness is their strength.
To shun a gun a Bun will run
To almost any length.
Now once, when war alarms were rifeIn the ancestral woodWhere the kingdom of the BunniesFor centuries had stood,
Now once, when war alarms were rife
In the ancestral wood
Where the kingdom of the Bunnies
For centuries had stood,
he Bunnies are a feeble folkWhose weakness is their strength.To shun a gun a Bun will runTo almost any length.Now once, when war alarms were rifeIn the ancestral woodWhere the kingdom of the BunniesFor centuries had stood,
he Bunnies are a feeble folkWhose weakness is their strength.To shun a gun a Bun will runTo almost any length.Now once, when war alarms were rifeIn the ancestral woodWhere the kingdom of the BunniesFor centuries had stood,
he Bunnies are a feeble folk
Whose weakness is their strength.
To shun a gun a Bun will run
To almost any length.
Now once, when war alarms were rifeIn the ancestral woodWhere the kingdom of the BunniesFor centuries had stood,
Now once, when war alarms were rife
In the ancestral wood
Where the kingdom of the Bunnies
For centuries had stood,
The king, for fear long peace had madeHis subjects over-bold,To wake the glorious spiritOf timidity of old,Announced one day he would bestowPrincess Bunita’s handOn the Bunny who should prove himselfMost timid in the land.Next day a proclamationWas posted in the wood“To the Flower of Timidity,The Pick of Bunnyhood:His Majesty the Bunny king,Commands you to appearAt a tournament—at such a dateIn such and such a year—Where his Majesty will then bestowPrincess Bunita’s handOn the Bunny who will prove himselfMost timid in the land.”Then every timid Bunny’s heartSwelled with exultant frightAt the thought of doughty deeds of fearAnd prodigies of flight.
The king, for fear long peace had madeHis subjects over-bold,To wake the glorious spiritOf timidity of old,Announced one day he would bestowPrincess Bunita’s handOn the Bunny who should prove himselfMost timid in the land.Next day a proclamationWas posted in the wood“To the Flower of Timidity,The Pick of Bunnyhood:His Majesty the Bunny king,Commands you to appearAt a tournament—at such a dateIn such and such a year—Where his Majesty will then bestowPrincess Bunita’s handOn the Bunny who will prove himselfMost timid in the land.”Then every timid Bunny’s heartSwelled with exultant frightAt the thought of doughty deeds of fearAnd prodigies of flight.
The king, for fear long peace had madeHis subjects over-bold,To wake the glorious spiritOf timidity of old,Announced one day he would bestowPrincess Bunita’s handOn the Bunny who should prove himselfMost timid in the land.
The king, for fear long peace had made
His subjects over-bold,
To wake the glorious spirit
Of timidity of old,
Announced one day he would bestow
Princess Bunita’s hand
On the Bunny who should prove himself
Most timid in the land.
Next day a proclamationWas posted in the wood“To the Flower of Timidity,The Pick of Bunnyhood:His Majesty the Bunny king,Commands you to appearAt a tournament—at such a dateIn such and such a year—Where his Majesty will then bestowPrincess Bunita’s handOn the Bunny who will prove himselfMost timid in the land.”
Next day a proclamation
Was posted in the wood
“To the Flower of Timidity,
The Pick of Bunnyhood:
His Majesty the Bunny king,
Commands you to appear
At a tournament—at such a date
In such and such a year—
Where his Majesty will then bestow
Princess Bunita’s hand
On the Bunny who will prove himself
Most timid in the land.”
Then every timid Bunny’s heartSwelled with exultant frightAt the thought of doughty deeds of fearAnd prodigies of flight.
Then every timid Bunny’s heart
Swelled with exultant fright
At the thought of doughty deeds of fear
And prodigies of flight.
For the motto of the BunniesAs perhaps you are aware,Is “Only the faint-heartedAre deserving of the fair.”They fell at once to practising,These Bunnies, one and all,Till some could almost die of frightTo hear a petal fall.And one enterprising BunnyGot up a special classTo teach the art of faintingAt your shadow on the grass.At length—at length—at lengthThe moment is at hand!And trembling all from head to footA hundred Bunnies stand.And a hundred Bunny mothersWith anxiety turn grayLest their offspring dear should lose their fearAnd linger in the fray.Never before in Bunny loreWas such a stirring sightAs when the bugle soundedTo begin the glorious flight!A hundred Bunnies, like a flash,All disappeared from sightLike arrows from a hundred bows—None swerved to left or right.Some north, some south, some east, some west,—And none of them, ’t is plain,Till he has gone around the earthWill e’er be seen again.It may be in a hundred weeks,Perchance a hundred years.Whenever it may be, ’t is plainThe one who first appearsIs the one who ran the fastest;He wins the Princess’ hand,And gains the glorious title of“Most Timid in the Land.”
For the motto of the BunniesAs perhaps you are aware,Is “Only the faint-heartedAre deserving of the fair.”They fell at once to practising,These Bunnies, one and all,Till some could almost die of frightTo hear a petal fall.And one enterprising BunnyGot up a special classTo teach the art of faintingAt your shadow on the grass.At length—at length—at lengthThe moment is at hand!And trembling all from head to footA hundred Bunnies stand.And a hundred Bunny mothersWith anxiety turn grayLest their offspring dear should lose their fearAnd linger in the fray.Never before in Bunny loreWas such a stirring sightAs when the bugle soundedTo begin the glorious flight!A hundred Bunnies, like a flash,All disappeared from sightLike arrows from a hundred bows—None swerved to left or right.Some north, some south, some east, some west,—And none of them, ’t is plain,Till he has gone around the earthWill e’er be seen again.It may be in a hundred weeks,Perchance a hundred years.Whenever it may be, ’t is plainThe one who first appearsIs the one who ran the fastest;He wins the Princess’ hand,And gains the glorious title of“Most Timid in the Land.”
For the motto of the BunniesAs perhaps you are aware,Is “Only the faint-heartedAre deserving of the fair.”
For the motto of the Bunnies
As perhaps you are aware,
Is “Only the faint-hearted
Are deserving of the fair.”
They fell at once to practising,These Bunnies, one and all,Till some could almost die of frightTo hear a petal fall.And one enterprising BunnyGot up a special classTo teach the art of faintingAt your shadow on the grass.
They fell at once to practising,
These Bunnies, one and all,
Till some could almost die of fright
To hear a petal fall.
And one enterprising Bunny
Got up a special class
To teach the art of fainting
At your shadow on the grass.
At length—at length—at lengthThe moment is at hand!And trembling all from head to footA hundred Bunnies stand.And a hundred Bunny mothersWith anxiety turn grayLest their offspring dear should lose their fearAnd linger in the fray.
At length—at length—at length
The moment is at hand!
And trembling all from head to foot
A hundred Bunnies stand.
And a hundred Bunny mothers
With anxiety turn gray
Lest their offspring dear should lose their fear
And linger in the fray.
Never before in Bunny loreWas such a stirring sightAs when the bugle soundedTo begin the glorious flight!A hundred Bunnies, like a flash,All disappeared from sightLike arrows from a hundred bows—None swerved to left or right.Some north, some south, some east, some west,—And none of them, ’t is plain,Till he has gone around the earthWill e’er be seen again.
Never before in Bunny lore
Was such a stirring sight
As when the bugle sounded
To begin the glorious flight!
A hundred Bunnies, like a flash,
All disappeared from sight
Like arrows from a hundred bows—
None swerved to left or right.
Some north, some south, some east, some west,—
And none of them, ’t is plain,
Till he has gone around the earth
Will e’er be seen again.
It may be in a hundred weeks,Perchance a hundred years.Whenever it may be, ’t is plainThe one who first appearsIs the one who ran the fastest;He wins the Princess’ hand,And gains the glorious title of“Most Timid in the Land.”
It may be in a hundred weeks,
Perchance a hundred years.
Whenever it may be, ’t is plain
The one who first appears
Is the one who ran the fastest;
He wins the Princess’ hand,
And gains the glorious title of
“Most Timid in the Land.”