This Chanticleer stood high upon his toes, Stretching his neck, and both his eyes did close, And so did crow right loudly, for the nonce; And Russel Fox, he started up at once, And by the gorget grabbed our Chanticleer, Flung him on back, and toward the wood did steer, For there was no man who as yet pursued. O destiny, you cannot be eschewed! Alas, that Chanticleer flew from the beams! Alas, his wife recked nothing of his dreams! This simple widow and her daughters two Heard these hens cry and make so great ado, And out of doors they started on the run And saw the fox into the grove just gone, Bearing in his mouth the cock away. And then they cried, “Alas, and weladay! Oh, the fox!” and after him they ran, And after them, with staves, went many a man; Ran Coll, our dog, and Talbot and Garland, Ran cow and calf and even the very hogs, So were they scared by barking of the dogs And shouting men and women all did make, They all ran so they thought their hearts would break. And now, good men, I pray you hearken all. Behold how Fortune turns all suddenly The hope and pride of even her enemy! This cock, which now lay in the fox’s mouth, In all his fear unto the fox did clack And say: “Sir, were I you, as I should be, Then would I say (as God may now help me!), ‘Turn back again, presumptuous peasants all! A very pestilence upon you fall! Now that I've gained here to this dark wood’s side, In spite of you this cock shall here abide. I’ll eat him, by my faith, and that anon!’” The fox replied: “In faith, it shall be done!” And as he spoke that word, all suddenly This cock broke from his mouth, full cleverly, And high upon a tree he flew anon. And when the fox saw well that he was gone, “Alas,” quoth he, “O Chanticleer, alas! I have against you done a base trespass Inasmuch as I made you afeared When I seized you and brought you from the yard; But, sir, I did it with no foul intent; Come down, and I will tell you what I meant. I’ll tell the truth to you, God help me so! “Nay then,” said he, “beshrew us both, you know, But first, beshrew myself, both blood and bones, If you beguile me, having done so once, You shall no more, with any flattery, Cause me to sing and closeup either eye; For he who shuts his eyes when he should see, And wilfully, God let him ne’er be free!” “Nay,” said the fox, “but God give him mischance Who is so indiscreet in governance He chatters when he ought to hold his peace.” But you that hold this tale a foolery, As but about a fox, a cock, a hen, Yet do not miss the moral, my good men. For Saint Paul says that all that's written well Is written down some useful truth to tell. Then take the wheat and let the chaff lie still. And now, good God, and if it be Thy will, As says Lord Christ, so make us all good men And bring us into His high bliss. Amen.
This poem is in the public domain.