Thoughtless little Peter,
With his little gun,
Went out by the woodside
For a little fun;
Saw a happy little hare,
Who on clover fed--
With his little gun took aim
And shot him in the head.
Thoughtful little Peter,
Sad for what he'd done,
Sat down on a stump, and there
By it laid his gun;
Wished that he could bring to life
That little hare so still;
"Never more," said he, "will I
A harmless creature kill."