1 Sly Reynard look'd forth from a farmer's hen-roost,
Where a gosling he'd just been a-picking; Half strangled he looked, for he could not get loose
From a bone in his throat that was sticking ; Half strangled he looked, for he could not get loose
From a bone in his throat that was sticking.
Ah ! Reynard, sly Reynard,
Ah ! Reynard, slv Reynard, the fox,
Ah! Reynard! sly Reynard, the fox.
2 He twisted his jaws, his eyes rolled about,
Like a frog in a quinzy he croaked too. "Will no good-natured bird/' said he, "pull the bone out?" 'Twas a flock of poor geese that he spoke to. Ah ! Reynard, &c.
3 A gander advanced, once the pride of the flock,
No friend had he near to remind him ; He put his long neck down the throat of the fox. But left his poor head there behind him. Ah ! Reynard, &c.