Explore "Big Stag" by James McIntyre on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Each Highland forester doth brag / That he hath seen a mighty stag, / But sportsmen they do think it strange, / He never comes within their range.
But the keeper, Donald McKay, / Says he saw it just the other day, / And though gents can't it, dihcover, / It is there the same, whatever.
The last I saw of wondrous stag, / He was grazing near yon crag, / In company with hia dear doe, / They seemed to love each other so.
And playful sporting on the lawn, / 'Long side of them their bonnie fawn;
I loved to see the creatures play, / From them I scarce could turn away.
My heart grew tender, I did lag / So long I could not shoot the stag, / And forest still he yet adorns, / With magnificent head of horns.
But I do fear some fatal day.
That some pot-hunter will him slay, / Who would be heedless of the woe / And sorrows of the fawn and doe.