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THE FAWN
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In this copse of beechwood trees
This grove, this thicket, if you please
A doe gave birth to a spotted fawn
Just at that veriest moment of dawn
And the rising sun rejoiced that day
At the new life on which its beams could play.
At first this fawn seemed to be weak
A tiny little thing, delicate physique
On shaking legs this diminutive deer
First found his feet – exactly here
His mother suckled him, and then
She hid him there, deep in that glen
A full five years it has been since
That fawn was born to be a prince
I saw him yesterday—he stood
And gazed at me from in this wood
A full-grown buck with antlers strong
Just at that time called evensong
How blessed am I, that I should see
God’s creature -- living, running free
That at his birthplace he’d appear
And look at me, most free from fear
Just how, I cannot comprehend
But he seems to know I am his friend |
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