Left.

Morris, The Hare and The Moon, 2020

The HARE

In the black furrow of a field

        I saw an old witch-hare this night;

     And she cocked a lissome ear,

        And she eyed the moon so bright,

     And she nibbled of the green;

        And I whispered "Wh-s-st! witch-hare,"

     Away like a ghostie o'er the field

        She fled, and left the moonlight there.

Walter de la Mare