A Simile

As the shy hind, the soft-eyed gentle Brute Now moves, now stops, approaches by degrees-- At length emerges from the shelt'ring Trees, Lur'd by her Hunter with the Shepherd's flute, Whose music travelling on the twilight breeze, When all besides was mute-- She oft had heard, and ever lov'd to hear; She fearful Beast! but that no sound of Fear----

Undated. Now first published from an MS.

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