The
DYING
KID.
By
the
Same
.
Optima
quaeque
dies
miseris
mortalibus
aevi
Prima
fugit
—
VIRG.
A
TEAR
bedews
my
Delia's
eye
,
To
think
yon
playful
kid
must
die
;
From
crystal
spring
,
and
flowery
mead
,
Must
,
in
his
prime
of
life
,
recede
!
Erewhile
,
in
sportive
circles
round
She
saw
him
wheel
,
and
frisk
,
and
bound
;
From
rock
to
rock
pursue
his
way
,
And
,
on
the
fearful
margin
,
play
.
Pleas'd
on
his
various
freaks
to
dwell
,
She
saw
him
climb
my
rustic
cell
;
Thence
eye
my
lawns
with
verdure
bright
,
And
seem
all
ravish'd
at
the
sight
.
She
tells
with
what
delight
he
stood
,
To
trace
his
features
in
the
flood
:
Then
skip'd
aloof
with
quaint
amaze
;
And
then
drew
near
,
again
to
gaze
.
See
tells
me
,
how
with
eager
speed
He
flew
,
to
hear
my
vocal
reed
;
And
how
,
with
critic
face
profound
,
And
stedfast
ear
,
devour'd
the
sound
.
His
every
frolic
,
light
as
air
,
Deserves
the
gentle
Delia's
care
;
And
tears
bedew
her
tender
eye
,
To
think
the
playful
kid
must
die
.
—
But
knows
my
Delia
,
timely
wise
,
How
soon
this
blameless
aera
flies
?
While
violence
and
craft
succeed
;
Unfair
design
,
and
ruthless
deed
!
Soon
would
the
vine
his
wounds
deplore
,
And
yield
her
purple
gifts
no
more
;
Ah
soon
,
eras'd
from
every
grove
Were
Delia's
name
,
and
Strephon's
love
.
No
more
those
bow'rs
might
Strephon
see
,
Where
first
he
fondly
gaz'd
on
thee
;
No
more
those
beds
of
flow'rets
find
,
Which
for
thy
charming
brows
he
twin'd
.
Each
wayward
passion
soon
would
tear
His
bosom
,
now
so
void
of
care
;
And
,
when
they
left
his
ebbing
vein
,
What
,
but
insipid
age
,
remain
?
Then
mourn
not
the
decrees
of
fate
,
That
gave
his
life
so
short
a
date
;
And
I
will
join
thy
tenderest
sighs
,
To
think
that
youth
so
swiftly
flies
!