Among the sand-hills,
Near by the sea,
Wild young rabbits
Were seen by me.
They live in burrows
With winding-ways,
And there they shelter
On rainy days.
The mother rabbits
Make cosy nests,
With hairy linings
From their breasts.
The tender young ones
Are nursed and fed,
And safely hidden
In this warm bed.
And when they are older,
They all come out
Upon the sand-hills
And frisk about.
They play and nibble
The long, dry grass,
But scamper away
Whenever you pass.