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This poem is often wrongly thought to be by Robert W Service. It is published here to the memory of Hugh Antoine D'Arcy, its rightful father.
An Evening with the Bard of the Yukon, July 18 th 2003 at 20.30pm in the Town-Hall of Lancieux, Brittany.
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The Innocents

Published by Webmaster on 07/30/2003 (3095 reads)
Last night a little fire I lit

The Innocents

Last night a little fire I lit
    Deep in a ferny dell;
With piny cones I kindled it
    And sat a silent spell.
So peaceful was the solitude,
    When sudden with surprise
I saw around me in the wood
    A ring of lambent eyes.

Oh! I had thought myself alone
    Afar from earthy ires,
So by my fire as still as stone
    I watched those other fires;
The eyes that flickered here and there
    With daring, doubt and fear;
But when they paused to stare and stare,
    I knew  that they were Deer.

Alas! I made a little sound
    For I to sleep was fain,
And they were gone with single bound
    And all was dark again.
Yet when I roused me in the night
    And raised my head to see,
My little fire was alght
    And they were watching me.

Somehow love in my heart awoke
    For buck and doe and fawn,
Yet when the light of morning broke
    My dappled friends were gone.
But I will ne'er  forget my night
    Of sylvan solitude,
My fire of piny cones alight,
    The tender eyes that shone so bright
Deep in the briery wood.

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