 | Verses from The island book |  |
18
ESCAPE OF THE BUCK.
The mist had fallen o'er wood and stream,
And from branch and leaf flashed the diamond's gleam;
In the sunlight glancing abroad they threw
With trembling beauty their rainbow hue.
And from branch and leaf flashed the diamond's gleam;
In the sunlight glancing abroad they threw
With trembling beauty their rainbow hue.
Below was reflected each fragile gem
Of a bright and stainless diadem;
The sea-gull watched for his shining prey,
Far down in that liquid galaxy.
Of a bright and stainless diadem;
The sea-gull watched for his shining prey,
Far down in that liquid galaxy.
The wild-fowl's cry and the fisherman's oar,
The distant tide on the sea-girt shore,
Alarm not the deer; with wakeful eye
He heeds each warning of danger nigh.
The distant tide on the sea-girt shore,
Alarm not the deer; with wakeful eye
He heeds each warning of danger nigh.
But a strain is heard from the hills remote;
'T is the far-off bugle's startling note.
Now rouse thee, fleet one; there 's death in delay!
The sound approaches; away! away!
'T is the far-off bugle's startling note.
Now rouse thee, fleet one; there 's death in delay!
The sound approaches; away! away!
19
Oh, why should man in his sport destroy
The charm of this scene of tranquil joy?
But the game is up with a rush and a bound,
The shout of huntsman and scream of hound.
The charm of this scene of tranquil joy?
But the game is up with a rush and a bound,
The shout of huntsman and scream of hound.
He bursts through the copse, he swims the stream,
He has 'scaped the sportsman's random aim.
Nay, pause not yet in thy swift career,
And speed in thy flight, for the foe is near.
He has 'scaped the sportsman's random aim.
Nay, pause not yet in thy swift career,
And speed in thy flight, for the foe is near.
They guard each pass, they have hemmed thee round,
And again the rifle's deadly sound!
On, on, for thy life, o'er rock and hill!
By yon winding path they wait thee still.
And again the rifle's deadly sound!
On, on, for thy life, o'er rock and hill!
By yon winding path they wait thee still.
So light his step o'er the violet's bed
That scarce the flowers are crushed by his tread;
So fleet his foot through the wooded cell,
The dew from the branches behind him fell.
That scarce the flowers are crushed by his tread;
So fleet his foot through the wooded cell,
The dew from the branches behind him fell.
He has gained the ridge, he has cleared the glade,
And is bounding free for the forest's shade.
Joy! joy! he is safe! and his antlers high
Are reflected against the clear blue sky.
And is bounding free for the forest's shade.
Joy! joy! he is safe! and his antlers high
Are reflected against the clear blue sky.
Oct. 1837.
| Verses from The island book | |