THE WHITE-FOOTED DEER. It was a hundred years ago, When, by the woodland ways, Beneath the hill, whose rocky side And fenced a cottage from the wind, She only came when on the cliffs And no man knew the secret haunts White were her feet, her forehead showed A spot of silvery white, That seemed to glimmer like a star In autumn's hazy night. And here, when sang the whippoorwill, And here her rustling steps were heard But when the broad midsummer moon Rose o'er the grassy lawn, Beside the silver-footed deer There grazed a spotted fawn. The cottage dame forbade her son To aim the rifle here; "It were a sin," she said, "to harm Or fright that friendly deer. "This spot has been my pleasant home Ten peaceful years and more ; And ever, when the moonlight shines, "The red men say that here she walked A thousand moons ago; They never raise the war-whoop here, 6: I love to watch her as she feeds, And think that all is well While such a gentle creature haunts The place in which we dwell." The youth obeyed, and sought for game In forests far away, Where, deep in silence and in moss, The ancient woodland lay. But once, in autumn's golden time, Nor roused the pheasant nor the deer, The crescent moon and crimson eve He raised the rifle to his eye, Away into the neighboring wood Next evening shone the waxing moon As sweetly as before; The deer upon the grassy mead Was seen again no more. But ere that crescent moon was old, And slew the youth and dame. Now woods have overgrown the mead, And hid the cliffs from sight; There shrieks the hovering hawk at noon 23-L & B-EE THE WANING MOON. I'VE watched too late; the morn is near; Even while your glow is on the cheek, See where upon the horizon's brim, Late, in a flood of tender light, She floated through the ethereal blue, A softer sun, that shone all night And still thou wanest, pallid moon! The encroaching shadow grows apace; Heaven's everlasting watchers soon Shall see thee blotted from thy place. |