Classic Poem

Know'st thou the time wild goats bring forth
The increase of their flock?
The time when they commit their birth
Unto the flinty rock?

Canst thou declare the months how long
The pregnant hinds complete?
And when to calve, or cast their young,
They to the brakes retreat?

In pangs they bow themselves, the wood
Affords them no relief?
Yet there, at once, they both exclude
Their offspring and their grief.

Their calves go seek their meat, and find,
In ranging hill and wood,
Their fat'ning corn; nor to the hind
Return for want of food.