Two little rabbits out in the sun;
One gathered food, the other had none.
"Time enough yet," his constant refrain;
"Summer is still just on the wane."
Listen, my child, while I tell you his fate:
He roused him at last, but he roused him too late.
Down fell the snow from a pitiless cloud,
And gave little rabbit a spotless white shroud.
Two little boys in a school-room were placed;
One always perfect, the other disgraced.
"Time enough yet for my learning," he said;
"I will climb by-and-by, from the foot to the head."
Listen, my darling--their locks are turned gray;
One, as a governor, sitteth to-day.
The other, a pauper, looks out at the door
Of the alms-house, and idles his days as of yore.
Two kinds of people we meet every day;
One is at work, the other at play,
Living uncared for, dying unknown.--
The busiest hive hath ever a drone.
Tell me, my child, if the rabbits have taught,
The lesson I longed to impart in your thought.
Answer me this, and my story is done,
Which of the two will you be, little one?