Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, RED FOX, by WILFRID WILSON GIBSON


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

RED FOX, by                 Poet Analysis     Poet's Biography
First Line: I hated him ... His beard was red
Last Line: Good watch, the night her son was born.


I hated him ... his beard was red...
Red fox, red thief! ... Ah, God, that she --
She with the proud and lifted head
That never stooped to glance at me --
So fair and fancy-free, should wed
A slinking dog-fox such as he!

Was it last night I hated him?
Last night? It seems an age ago...
At whiles, my mind comes over dim
As if God's breath ... yet, ever slow
And dull, too dull she ... limb from limb
Last night I could have torn him, so!

My lonely bed was fire and ice.
I could not sleep. I could not lie.
I shut my hot eyes once or twice...
And saw a red fox slinking by...
A red dog-fox that turned back thrice
To mock me with a merry eye.

And so I rose to pace the floor...
And ere I knew, my clothes were on...
And as I stood outside the door,
Cold in the Summer moonlight shone
The gleaming barrel ... and no more
I feared the fox, for fear was gone.

"The best of friends," I said, "must part..."
"The best of friends must part," I said:
And like the creaking of a cart
The words went wheeling through my head.
"The best of friends ..." and, in my heart,
Red fox, already lying dead!

I took the trackway through the wood.
Red fox had sought a woodland den,
When she ... when she ... but, 'twas not good
To think too much on her just then...
The woman must beware, who stood
Between two stark and fearless men.

The pathway took a sudden turn...
And in a trice my steps were stayed.
Before me, in the moonlit fern,
A young dog-fox and vixen played
With their red cubs beside the burn...
And I stood trembling and afraid.

They frolicked in the warm moonlight --
A scuffling heap of heads and heels...
A rascal rush ... a playful bite...
A scuttling brush, and frightened squeals...
A flash of teeth ... a show of fight...
Then lively as a bunch of eels

Once more they gambolled in the brake,
And tumbled headlong in the stream,
Then scrambled gasping out to shake
Their sleek, wet, furry coats agleam.
I watched them, fearful and awake...
I watched them, hateless and adream.

The dog-fox gave a bark, and then
All ran to him: and, full of pride,
He took the trackway up the glen,
His family trotting by his side:
The young cubs nosing for the den,
With trailing brushes, sleepy-eyed.

And then it seems I must have slept --
Dropt dead asleep ... dropt dead outworn.
I wakened, as the first gleam crept
Among the fern, and it was morn...
God's eye about their home had kept
Good watch, the night her son was born.





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