A deer was sick, and made her bed
Amid the meadow grass.
Then all around her thronged her friends –
The ox, the goat, the ass,
The sheep, the boar and many more –
A dense, imposing mass.
Now those well-wishing multitudes,
Appearing unaware
That the rich herbs about her couch
Comprised her only fare,
Nibbled away by night and day,
And cropped the meadow bare.
Of course, with not a stalk to eat,
She reached her final throes,
Who might have lived for many years
As the strongest of the does.
When one depends on careless friends
He needs no other foes.
