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THE DEER-STONE
And in a hollowed stone it shed
Its milk so warm and white,
And then, all timid, stood apart
To watch the babe's delight.
••••••
And at each eve and every mom
The gentle doe was there,
To find the little babe, and see
The saint, all deep in prayer.
••••••
In Glendalough the stone lies still
All plainly to be seen.
And many folk will point the place
Where once the milk had been.
