T'was in the merry month of march a courting couple beneath the arch oh no you fool it must be may the mad march hare was not that day about his many wonderous chores he was i say upon all fours but running from the cloven hoof with percpicacity of youth he fled from them where er they ran as only those of fleet foot can quicksilver hoves persued south and west he still leaped through his acid test and came out on the other side hat still in place, shalln't be denied For though he ran t'was not for gold nor for a blacksmiths wealth untold For fool's may need that sparkling iron Those martys to a well shod zion But all that sparkles is not cloven an argument to leave unproven yet some may want the bread to rise to mop the filling in their cloud bound pie but when the rabbits between two slices of tato bread with death he dices for if the hunters catch him there our brave young hare will be ensnaired alass you say for our hero, we fear alay suppers juices will run clear (as will the waters of brighton pier) for though he may not ride on hooves a wily shank's pony he could choose And walk for ever in pastures green All thought of hooves a distant dream what happened to that courting couple all lithesome limb and body supple did they spy the cavorting creature marvel at his lonsome features wonder at what might have been if he'd indulged that other realm Na Is there one more glistening hoof? Come here dear lets search for proof