Classic Poem

Once a turtle, finding plenty
In seclusion to bewitch,
Lived a dolce far niente
Kind of life within a ditch;
Rivers had no charm for him,
As he told his wife and daughter,
" Though my friends are in the swim,
Mud is thicker far than water. "

One fine day, as was his habit,
He was dozing in the sun,
When a young and flippant rabbit
Happened by the ditch to run:
" Come and race me, " he exclaimed,
" Fat inhabitant of puddles.
Sluggard! You should be ashamed.
Such a life the brain befuddles. "

This, of course, was banter merely,
But it stirred the torpid blood
Of the turtle, and severely
Forth he issued from the mud.
" Done! " he cried. The race began,
But the hare resumed his banter,
Seeing how his rival ran
In a most unlovely canter.

Shouting, " Terrapih, you're bested!
You'd be wiser, dear old chap,
If you sat you down and rested
When you reach the second lap. "
Quoth the turtle, " I refuse.
As for you, with all your talking,
Sit on any lap you choose.
I shall simply go on walking.
"
Now this sporting proposition
Was, upon its face, absurd;
Yet the hare, with expedition,
Took the tortoise at his word,
Ran until the final lap,
Then, supposing he'd outclassed him,
Laid him down and took a nap

And the patient turtle passed him!
Plodding on, he shortly made the
Line that marked the victor's goal;
Paused, and found he'd won, and laid the
Flattering unction to his soul.
Then in fashion grandiose,
Like an after-dinner speaker,
Touched his flipper to his nose,
And remarked, " Ahem! Eureka! "

And THE MORAL (lest you miss one)
Is: There's often time to spare,
And that races are (like this one)
Won not always by a hair.