414 THE WILD DEEK OF THE MOUNTAIN. 



A shadow on the downy grass, 



That breathes its fragrance as they pass, 



Troop forth the regal deer : 

 Each stately hart, each slender hind, 

 Stares and snuffs the desert wind ; 

 While by their side confiding roves 

 The spring-born offspring of their loves 

 The delicate and playful fawn, 

 Dappled like the rosy dawn, 



And sportive in its fear ! 



III. 



The mountain is thy mother, 



Thou wild secluded race : 

 Thou hast no sire, or brother, 



That watches with a face 

 Of half such fondness o'er thy life 

 Of blended solitude and strife, 

 As yon high majestic form 



That feeds thee on its grassy breast, 

 Or guards thee from the bursting storm 



By the rude shelter of its crest ; 

 Or when thy startled senses feel 



The presence of the unseen foe, 

 And dreams of anguish wildly steal 



O'er trembling stag and quivering doe 

 Conceals thee in her forest gloom, 

 And saves from an untimely doom. 



