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Rachel Lyman Field


As I went home on the old wood road,

With my basket and lesson book,

A deer came out of the tall trees

And down to drink at the brook.

Twilight was all about us,

Twilight and tree on tree;

I looked straight into its great, strange eyes

And the deer looked back at me.

Beautiful, brown, and unafraid

Those eyes returned my stare,

And something with neither sound nor name

Passed between us there.

Something I shall not forget;

Something still, and shy, and wise,

In the dimness of the woods,

From a pair of gold-flecked eyes.