Four Little Foxes
Speak gently, Spring, and make no sudden sound;
For in my windy valley, yesterday I found
New-born foxes squirming on the ground—
Speak gently.
For in my windy valley, yesterday I found
New-born foxes squirming on the ground—
Speak gently.
Walk softly, March, forbear the bitter blow;
Her feet within a trap, her blood upon the snow,
The four little foxes saw their mother go—
Walk softly.
Her feet within a trap, her blood upon the snow,
The four little foxes saw their mother go—
Walk softly.
Go lightly, Spring, oh, give them no alarm;
When I covered them with boughs to shelter them from harm,
The thin blue foxes suckled at my arm—
Go lightly.
When I covered them with boughs to shelter them from harm,
The thin blue foxes suckled at my arm—
Go lightly.
Step softly, March, with your rampant hurricane,
Nuzzling one another and whimpering with pain,
The little foxes are shivering in the rain—
Step softly.
Nuzzling one another and whimpering with pain,
The little foxes are shivering in the rain—
Step softly.
From "Slow Smoke" by Lew Sarett.(By permission of Henry Holt and Co.)