Four Little Foxes
by Lew Sarrett

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.
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 whimp'ring with pain,
The new little foxes are shiv'ring in the rain
Step softly.