The swift young hunter “Right Away.”
Around each tender vine I plant,
I find the little fox “I Can’t!”
Then fast as ever hunter ran,
Chase him with brave and bold “I Can.”
“No Use in Trying!” lags and whines,
This fox among my tender vines.
Then drive him low and drive him high,
With this good hunter, named “I’ll Try.”
Among the vines in my small lot,