Here Stood An Oak, That Long Had Borne Affixed To His Huge Trunk, Or, With More Subtle Art, Among Its Withering Topmost Branches Mixed, The Palmy Antlers Of A Hunted Hart, Whom The Dog Hercules Pursued His Part Each Desperately Sustaining, Till At Last Both Sank And Died, The Life-Veins Of The Chased And Chaser Bursting Here With One Dire Smart. Mutual The Victory, Mutual The Defeat! High Was The Trophy Hung With Pitiless Pride; Say, Rather, With That Generous Sympathy That Wants Not, Even In Rudest Breasts, A Seat; And, For This Feeling'S Sake, Let No One Chide Verse That Would Guard Thy Memory, Hart'S-Horn Tree!