Classic Poem

The grey goat grazed on the hill,
The grey hare grazed by his side,
And never a word they said
From morning till eventide,
And never a word they said,
Though each understood the other,
For the wind that played on the hill
Whispered, " My dear grey brother. "

The grey goat went home at dusk,
Down to the cottage door,
The grey hare scuttled away
To his burrow across the moor.
And never a word they said,
Though each understood the other,
For the wind that slept on the hill
Murmured, " Good night, grey brother. "