The Dying Kid Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: ABCD EF FFBB BBGG HHBB BBEE BBBB IIFF JJBB KKAA LLBB IIMM BBJJ| Optima quaeque dies miseris mortalibus aevi | A |
| Prima fugit | B |
| Virg | C |
| Imitation | D |
| - | |
| Ah wretched mortals we our brightest days | E |
| On fleetest pinions fly | F |
| - | |
| A tear bedews my Delia's eye | F |
| To think yon playful kid must die | F |
| From crystal spring and flowery mead | B |
| Must in his prime of life recede | B |
| - | |
| Erewhile in sportive circles round | B |
| She saw him wheel and frisk and bound | B |
| From rock to rock pursue his way | G |
| And on the fearful margin play | G |
| - | |
| Pleased on his various freaks to dwell | H |
| She saw him climb my rustic cell | H |
| Thence eye my lawns with verdure bright | B |
| And seem'd all ravish'd at the sight | B |
| - | |
| She tells with what delight he stood | B |
| To trace his features in the flood | B |
| Then skipp'd aloof with quaint amaze | E |
| And then drew near again to gaze | E |
| - | |
| She tells me how with eager speed | B |
| He flew to hear my vocal reed | B |
| And how with critic face profound | B |
| And steadfast ear devour'd the sound | B |
| - | |
| His every frolic light as air | I |
| Deserves the gentle Delia's care | I |
| And tears bedew her tender eye | F |
| To think the playful kid must die | F |
| - | |
| But knows my Delia timely wise | J |
| How soon this blameless era flies | J |
| While violence and craft succeed | B |
| Unfair design and ruthless deed | B |
| - | |
| Soon would the vine his wounds deplore | K |
| And yield her purple gifts no more | K |
| Ah soon erased from every grove | A |
| Were Delia's name and Strephon's love | A |
| - | |
| No more those bowers might Strephon see | L |
| Where first he fondly gazed on thee | L |
| No more those beds of flowerets find | B |
| Which for thy charming brows he twined | B |
| - | |
| Each wayward passion soon would tear | I |
| His bosom now so void of care | I |
| And when they left his ebbing vein | M |
| What but insipid age remain | M |
| - | |
| Then mourn not the decrees of Fate | B |
| That gave his life so short a date | B |
| And I will join my tenderest sighs | J |
| To think that youth so swiftly flies | J |
William Shenstone
(1)
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