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Undaunted, lofty, calm, and stable,
And awfully impenetrable.

And so — beneath a mouldered tree,
A self-surviving leafless oak
By unregarded age from stroke
Of
ravage

saved — sat Emily. There did she rest, with head reclined, Herself most like a stately flower (Such have I seen) whom chance of birth Hath separated from its kind, To live and die in a shady bower, Single on the gladsome earth.

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When, with a noise like distant thunder, A troop of deer came sweeping by; And, suddenly, behold a wonder! For one, among those rushing deer, A single one, in mid-career Hath stopped, and fixed her large, full eye Upon the Lady Emily ; A Doe most beautiful, clear white, A radiant creature, silver-bright!

Thus checked, a little while it stayed; A little thoughtful pause it made; And then advanced with stealth-like pace, Drew softly near her, and more near, Looked round, — but saw no cause for fear. So to her feet the Creature came,

And laid its head upon her knee,
And looked into the Lady's face,
A look of pure benignity,
And fond, unclouded memory.
It is, thought Emily, the same,
The
very

Doe of other years !
The pleading look the Lady viewed,
And, by her gushing thoughts subdued,
She melted into tears,
A flood of tears, that flowed apace,
Upon the happy Creature's face.

O moment ever blest! O Pair Beloved of Heaven, Heaven's chosen care, This was for you a precious greeting; And may it prove a fruitful meeting ! Joined are they, and the sylvan Doe Can she depart ? can she forego The Lady, once her playful peer, And now her sainted Mistress dear? And will not Emily receive This lovely chronicler of things Long past, delights and sorrowings? Long Sufferer! will not she believe The promise in that speaking face; And welcome, as a gift of grace, The saddest thought the Creature brings?

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That day, the first of a reunion Which was to teem with high communion,

That day of balmy April weather,
They tarried in the wood together.
And when, ere fall of evening dew,
She from her sylvan haunt withdrew,
The White Doe tracked with faithful pace
The Lady to her dwelling-place;
That nook where, on paternal ground,
A habitation she had found,
The Master of whose humble board
Once owned her Father for his Lord ;
A hut, by tufted trees defended,
Where Rylstone Brook with Wharf is blended.

When Emily by morning light
Went forth, the Doe stood there in sight.
She shrunk :- - with one frail shock of pain
Received and followed by a prayer,
She saw the Creature once again ;
Shun will she not, she feels, will bear;-
But, wheresoever she looked round,
All now was trouble-haunted ground;
And therefore now she deems it good
Once more this restless neighborhood
To leave. — Unwooed, yet unforbidden,
The White Doe followed up the vale,
Up to another cottage, hidden
In the deep fork of Amerdale ;
And there may Emily restore
Herself, in spots unseen before.

Why tell of mossy rock, or tree,

By lurking Dernbrook's pathless side,
Haunts of a strengthening amity
That calmed her, cheered, and fortified ?
For she hath ventured now to read
Of time, and place, and thought, and deed, -
Endless history that lies
In her silent Follower's eyes ;
Who with a power like human reason
Discerns the favorable season,
Skilled to approach or to retire,
From looks conceiving her desire;
From look, deportment, voice, or mien,
That vary to the heart within.
If she too passionately wreathed
Her arms, or over-deeply breathed,
Walked quick or slowly, every mood
In its degree was understood ;
Then well may their accord be true,
And kindliest intercourse ensue.

Oh! surely ’t was a gentle rousing
When she by sudden glimpse espied
The White Doe on the mountain browsing,
Or in the meadow wandered wide!
How pleased, when down the Straggler sank
Beside her, on some sunny

bank! How soothed, when, in thick bower inclosed, They, like a nested pair, reposed ! Fair Vision ! when it crossed the Maid Within some rocky cavern laid, The dark cave's portal gliding by,

VOL. IV.

White as whitest cloud on high
Floating through the azure sky.

What now is left for pain or fear?
That Presence, dearer and more dear,
While they, side by side, were straying,
And the shepherd's pipe was playing,
Did now a very gladness yield
At morning to the dewy field,
And with a deeper peace endued
The hour of moonlight solitude.

With her Companion, in such frame
Of mind, to Rylstone back she came ;
And, ranging through the wasted groves,
Received the memory of old loves,
Undisturbed and undistrest,
Into a soul which now was blest
With a soft spring-day of holy,
Mild, and grateful melancholy:
Not sunless gloom or unenlightened,
But by tender fancies brightened.

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When the bells of Rylstone played Their Sabbath music, “ God us apde! That was the sound they seemed to speak; Inscriptive legend which I ween May on those holy bells be seen, That legend and her Grandsire's name; And oftentimes the Lady meek Had in her childhood read the same;

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