University of Virginia Library


532

XVIII—YOUTH AND DEATH

A milk-white mark its spreading front adorns,
Shaped like a moon of three days old:
The silver curve divides its budding horns,
And all besides is gold.
The pretty creature, wild in wanton play,
Now frisks about the flow'ry mead;
Loose from the dam, it knows no grief to-day,
But must to-morrow bleed.