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THE COYOTE

Forth from his lonely haunt,
Lean, evil-eyed and gaunt
Stealthily stealing
To where on low chemise
Hang tattered shreds of fleece
Guiding to where in peace
The flocks are kneeling.

Crackling of underbrush
Breaks on the forest's hush
Some wanderer telling,
Then on the startled ear
Far off and then more near
Sounds forth distinct and clear
A hideous yelling.

Haste little lambs and flee,
Quick comes an enemy
Reckless with hunger,
Lean are his ugly jaws,
Hollow his evil eyes,
As from his den he goes
Seeking for plunder.

Sheep running here and there
Helpless from sudden fear
Warned of their danger,
What has the calm flock seen?
Close by the wild ravine
With fierce and threatening mien
Stands a gaunt stranger.

Short is the cruel chase,
Then from a sheltered place

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