Lines, on Startling a Rabbit.

A poem by John Hartley

Whew! - Tha'rt in a famous hurry!
Awm nooan baan to try to catch thi!
Aw've noa dogs wi' me to worry
Thee poor thing, - aw like to watch thi.
Tha'rt a runner! aw dar back thi,
Why, tha ommost seems to fly!
Did ta think aw meant to tak thi?
Well, awm fond o' rabbit pie.

Aw dooan't want th' world to misen, mun,
Awm nooan like a dog i'th' manger;
Yet still 'twor happen best to run,
For tha'rt th' safest aght o' danger.
An sometimes fowks' inclination
Leads 'em to do what they shouldn't; -
But tha's saved me a temptation, -
Aw've net harmed thi, 'coss aw couldn't.

Aw wish all temptations fled me,
As tha's fled throo me to-day;
For they've oft to trouble led me,
For which aw've had dear to pay.
An a taicher wise aw've faand thi,
An this lesson gained throo thee;
'At when dangers gether raand me,
Th' wisest tactics is to flee.

They may call thi coward, Bunny,
But if mine had been thy lot,
Aw should fail to see owt funny,
To be stewin in a pot.
Life to thee, awm sewer is sweeter,
Nor thi flesh to me could prove;
May thy lot an mine grow breeter,
Blest wi' liberty an love.