1 66 The Poets Beasts. 



Another peculiarity of the deer kind, their often fatal 

 curiosity, finds very frequent notice ; as Spenser's " amazed 

 deere;" Greene's "deer that doat the gaze, mazed dismay- 

 fully ; " Shakespeare's " poor, frightened deer that stand at 

 gaze ; " Broome's " tim'rous deer, swift starting as they graze, 

 bound off in crowds, then turn again to gaze ; " Rogers' 

 " with fearful gaze ; " Quarles' " with strange amaze, and 

 senseless half, through feare they stand at gaze," and a 

 score of others. 



One result of this tenderness for the deer is that deer- 

 hunting seldom meets with admiration from the poets. 

 With the fox it is very different. Having condemned 

 Reynard beforehand, they see no cruelty in the pack of 

 hounds that murder the brave little beast, but applaud the 

 hunters as if they had overtaken and slain some desperate 

 bandit. The crimes of the fox are supposed to have earned 

 its death, so it dies unpitied. 



" Not so the stately staj^, of liarmless force, 

 In motion graceful, rapid in liis course ; 

 Nature in vain iiis lofty head adorns 

 With formidable groves of pointed thorns. 

 Soon as the hounds' fierce clamour strikes his ear, 

 He throws his arms behind, and owns his fear ; 

 Sweeps o'er the imprinted grass, the wind outflies — 

 Hounds, horses, hunters, horns, still sound along the skies. 

 He, trembling, safety secivs in every place, 

 Drives throui;h the thicket, scales the lofty steep ; 

 Bounds o'er the hills, or darts through valleys tieep ; 

 Plunges amid the river's cooling tides, 

 While strong and quick he heaves his panting sides. 

 He from afar his loved companions sees, 

 Whom the loud whoop that hurtles on the breeze 

 Into a crowded phalanx firm had cast, 

 Their armed heads all outward round them placeil. 

 To these he flies, and begs to be allowed 

 To share the danger with his kindred crowd ; 

 But must, by general voice excluded, know 

 How loathed the sad society of woe. 



