It would appear that the fox faithfully performed his commission; for Rhys Goch of Eryri, or Red Rhys of Snowdon, the other bard, has left us an ode in which he abuses the fox for killing his peacock. This poem is composed of such harsh sounds, that Sion Tudur, another bard, humorously termed it the ‘Shibboleth of Sobriety,’ because no man, when drunk, could possibly pronounce it.
RHYS GOCH TO THE FOX.
The wretch, my starry bird who slew,
Beast of the flameless embers’ hue!
Assassin! glutton of the night,
Mixed of all creatures that defile!
Land lobster! fugitive of light,
Thou coward mountain crocodile!
With downcast eye and ragged tail,
That haunt’st the hollow rocks,
Thief, ever ready to assail
The undefended flocks!
Thy brass-hued breast and tattered locks
Shall not protect thee from the hound,
When, with unbaffled eye, he mocks
Thy mazy fortress under ground;
Whilst o’er my peacock’s shattered plumes shall shine
A fretted bower of brightest eglantine!
