Old fox comes trotting over the hill
Down from Caistor Tor,
On through the woods by the water-mill.
Lock he dairy door!
He's an orange flame in the early light
As he sneaks between the trees,
With his tail down low and his sharp eyes bright
He sniffs the morning breeze.
Near to the farm he drops his speed.
Head to the ground he goes.
These are hungry cubs in the den to feed.
He twitches his clever nose.
The proud cock struts by the chicken run,
Raises his head to the sky,
And lifts his voice to the morning sun,
With, 'Fly, sisters, fly!'
'Fly, sisters. Fly!
To the perch in the old grain store.
A hungry fox is passing by.
Lock the dairy door!'
Old Fox goes trotting past the farm
Turns north, toward his lair.
Now no chicken will come to harm
But rabbits - beware!
