Sustain'd by memory of the past
And strength of reason; held above
The infirmities of mortal love;
Undaunted, lofty, calm, and stable,
And awfully impenetrable.

And so-beneath a moulder'd tree,
A self-surviving leafless oak,
By unregarded age from stroke
Of ravage saved-sate 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.

When, with a noise like distant thunder,
A troop of deer came sweeping by,
And, suddenly, behold a wonder!
For, of that band of rushing deer,
A single one in mid career

Hath stopp'd, and fix'd its large full eye
Upon the Lady Emily.

A doe most beautiful, clear white,
A radiant creature, silver bright!

Thus check'd, a little while it stay'd;
A little thoughtful pause it made!
And then advanced with stealth-like pace,
Drew softly near her-and more near,
Stopp'd once again: but as no trace
Was found of anything to fear,
Even to her feet the creature came,
And laid its head upon her knee,
And look'd 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 view'd,
And, by her gushing thoughts subdued
She melted into tears-

A flood of tears, that flow'd apace
Upon the happy creature's face.

O moment ever blest! O pair

Beloved of Heaven, Heaven's choicest care!
This was for you a precious greeting,
For both a bounteous, fruitful meeting.

Join'd 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