Page:The white doe of Rylstone - or, The fate of the Nortons. A poem (IA whitedoeofrylsto00wordrich).pdf/85

 The garden pool’s dark surface—stirred By the night insects in their play— Breaks into dimples small and bright; A thousand, thousand rings of light That shape themselves and disappear Almost as soon as seen :—and, lo! Not distant far, the milk-white Doe: The same fair Creature which was nigh Feeding in tranquillity, When Francis uttered to the Maid His last words in the yew-tree shade;— The same fair Creature, who hath found Her way into forbidden ground; Where now, within this spacious plot For pleasure made, a goodly spot, With lawns, and beds of flowers, and shades Of trellis-work in long arcades, And cirque and crescent framed by wall Of close-clipt foliage green and tall,