Author Wilfrid Wilson Gibson The fox's mask grins from the wall In the dark shadows of the hall, As though it said— I kept them running till evenfall: But now, of horses and hounds and all That followed the hunt, the hunt I led, Not even a mask is left on a wall. Tags Short Poems Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments