222 The Poets Beasts. 



With the poets the deer is a universal favourite. " The 

 dew-clawed stag" (Keats), "a stag of ten, bearing his 

 branches sturdily " (Scott), always makes a stanza go 

 statelily. Even Ossian's tiresome " dun sons of the bound- 

 ing hind, the dark-brown deer of Cromla," relieve the 

 dreary monotony of the Phairson's native heath. Every 

 poet likes to talk about them — 



" The wild and frightful herds 

 That, hearing no noise but that of chattering birds, 

 Feed fairly on the lawns : both sorts of seasoned deer, 

 Here walk the stately Red, the freckled Fallow there 

 The Bucks and lusty Stags amongst the Rascals strewed, 

 As sometime gallant spirits among the multitude." 



And they all agree in paying tribute to its courage — " Wlien 

 at bay a desperate foe." 



They exult in its escape. Thus even Somerville —  



" Heaven taught, the roebuck swift 

 Loiters at ease before the driving pack, 

 And mocks their vain pursuit. Nor far he flies, 

 But checks his ardour, till the streaming scent 

 That freshens on the blade provokes their rage. 

 Urged to their speed, his weak, deluded foes 

 Soon flag fatigued ; strained to excess, each nerve, 

 Each slackened sinew fails : they pant, they foam. 

 Then o'er the lawn he bounds, o'er the high hills 

 Stretches secure, and leaves the scattered crowd 

 To puzzle in the distant vale below." 



So, too, Scott seems glad when t'lie " antlered monarch 

 of the glen" baulks those dogs "of black St. Hubert's 

 breed," and, dashing down "into the Trosach's wildest 

 nook," is soon " lost to hound and hunter's ken," and from 

 its place of refuge 



" Hears the baffled dogs in vain 

 Rave through the hollow jiass amain, 

 Ciiiding the rocks that yelled again." 



