I <br /> <br />Gracefullest leaper, the dappled fox-cub <br />Curves over brambles with berries and buds, <br />Light as a bubble that flies from the tub, <br />Whisked by the laundry-wife out of her suds. <br />Wavy he comes, woolly, all at his ease, <br />Elegant, fashioned to foot with the deuce; <br />Nature's own prince of the dance: then he sees <br />Me, and retires as if making excuse. <br /> <br />II <br /> <br />Never closed minuet courtlier! Soon <br />Cub-hunting troops were abroad, and a yelp <br />Told of sure scent: ere the stroke upon noon <br />Reynard the younger lay far beyond help. <br />Wild, my poor friend, has the fate to be chased; <br />Civil will conquer: were 't other 'twere worse; <br />Fair, by the flushed early morning embraced, <br />Haply you live a day longer in verse.<br /><br />George Meredith<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/young-reynard/
