by Camilla Doyle (d. 1944?)
The Town Rabbit in the Country
Language: English
Three hours ago in Seven Dials She lived awaiting all the trials That haunt her race, but now shall be Freed on the lawn to play with me. In the dim shop her eyes were grey And languid; but in this bright day To a full circle each dilates, And turns the blue of Worcester plates In the unaccustomed sun; she stares At strange fresh leaves; the passing airs, Outstretching from her box's brink, She gulps as if her nose could drink. Now o'er the edge she scrambles slow, Too pleased to know which way to go -- Half dazed with pleasure she explores This sunny, eatable out-of-doors. Then shakes and tosses up her ears Like plumes upon bold cavaliers -- The dust flies out as catherine-wheels Throw sparks as round she twirls and reels -- Her spine it quivers like an eel's -- Over her head she flings her heels, Comes down askew, then waltzes till She must reverse or else feel ill -- Reverses, then lies down and pants As one who has no further wants, Staring with half-believing eyes Like souls that wake in Paradise.
Authorship:
- by Camilla Doyle (d. 1944?), first published 1923 [author's text not yet checked against a primary source]
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive):
- by Gary Bachlund (b. 1947), "The Town Rabbit in the Country", 2006 [mezzo-soprano and piano] [ sung text checked 1 time]
Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
This text was added to the website: 2007-04-29
Line count: 28
Word count: 183