swift of feet and keen of eye. over the bowers thy doest fly.keeping limb and leaf twixt hunter and hunted.for hear i peer though leafy glade. to see some shaking u have made.to aim my gun and take my shot. and once more fill my brimming cup.with toothsome brew that was once was u. fly on u bush-tailed vagabond.for this time u have truly won.out run the man , out run the dog.but one day i'll have u on the log. with fur on fingers and knife in flesh ' til finally thee and me are we.