Art more than one among others?

Chosen darling of Heaven,
Yet at heart wast only a child!
And for thee the wild things of Nature
Sot aside their nature wild:--
The brown-eyed fawn of the forest
Came silently glancing upon thee;
The squirrel slipp'd down from the fir,
And nestled his gentleness on thee.

_Angelus_ bell and _Ave_,
Like voices they follow the maid
As she follows her sheep in the valley
From the dawn to the folding shade:--
For the world that we cannot see
Is the world of her earthly seeing;
From the air of the hills of God
She draws her breath and her being.

Dances by beech tree and fountain,
They know her no longer:--apart
Sitting with thought and with vision
In the silent shrine of the heart.
And a voice henceforth and for ever
Within, without her, is sighing
'Pity for France, O pity,
France the beloved, the dying!'

--Now between church-wall and cottage