The poem
Like as a huntsman after weary chase Seeing the game from him escaped away, Sits down to rest him in some shady place, With panting hounds beguiled of their prey: So, after long pursuit and vain assay, When I all weary had the chase forsook, The gentle deer returned the self-same way, Thinking to quench her thirst at the next brook. There she beholding me with milder look, Sought not to fly, but fearless still did bide; Till I in hand her yet half trembling took, And with her own good-will her firmly tied. Strange thing, me seemed, to see a beast so wild So goodly won, with her own will beguiled.