Ode 13.
Fount of Bandusia, glassy spring,1
Worthy of hallow’d offering,2
Of scatter’d flowers and sweetest wine !3
A kid to-morrow shall be thine,4
Whose budding horns threat love and war—5
Falsely, alas ! poor wantoner !6
To-morrow with his heart’s red tide7
Thy stream, fair Fountain, shall be dyed.8
Thee not the dog-star’s fiery ray9
Visits with unrelenting day :10
Th’ o’er-labour’d ox, the roving kine,11
Glad in thy cool fresh shade recline.12
Rank amid noblest streams shalt thou,13
Whilst in my song the oak shall grow14
Based on the rock, with sparkling flash15
Whence down thy headlong waters dash.16