XXV.

"Yet such the destiny of all on Earth: So flourishes and fades majestic Man. Fair is the bud his vernal morn brings forth, And fostering gales awhile the nursling fan. O smile, ye heavens, serene; ye mildews wan, Ye blighting whirlwinds, spare his balmy prime Nor lessen of his life the little span! Borne on the swift, though silent wings of Time, Old age comes on apace to ravage all the clime.