Four Little Foxes
Speak gently, Spring, and make no sudden sound;For in my windy valley, yesterday I foundNew-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.
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.
