Ethel Lynn Beers

“ That in forest and hamlet shall lag evermore.
I am going—I hear the great wolf on my track;
Already around me his shadow falls black.
One hunting cry more! Oh, master! come nigh,
And lay the white paw in your own as I die. ”

“ The hare on the common, the birds on the bough,
Were afraid. They are safe enough now,
For all we can harm them, old master and I.
We have had our last hunt, the game must go by,
While Matthew sits fashioning bows in the door
For a living. We never hunt more.
For time, cold, and hardship have stiffened his knee;
And since little Lottie died, often I see
His hands tremble sorely, and go to his eyes
For the lost baby-daughter so pretty and wise.
Oh! it's sad to be old, and to see the blue sky
Look farther away to the dim fading eye ”