Slow Smoke/Four Little Foxes

by Lew Sarett

For other versions of this work, see Four Little Foxes.

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.

Step softly, March, with your rampant hurricane;Nuzzling one another, and whimpering with pain,The new little foxes are shivering in the rain—        Step softly.