five miles more, the stag, the stag,
     For twenty miles, and five and five,
     Not to be caught now, dead or alive,
     The stag, the runnable stag.

Three hundred gentlemen, able to ride,
   Three hundred horses as gallant and free,
Beheld him escape on the evening tide,
   Far out till he sank in the Severn Sea,
 Till he sank in the depths of the sea—
     The stag, the buoyant stag, the stag
     That slept at last in a jewell’d bed
     Under the sheltering ocean spread,
     The stag, the runnable stag.