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And float amid the liquid noon:
Some lightly o'er the current skim,
Some shew their gayly-gilded trim
Quick-glancing to the fun.
To Contemplation's sober eyed
Such is the race of Man :
And they that creep, and they that Ay,
Shall end where they began,
b“ Nare per æstatem liquidam
Virgil. Georg. lib. 4.
Milton's Paradise Lost, book 7,
M. GREEN, in the Grotto. Dodfley's Miscellanies, Vol. V. p. 161.
No painted plumage to display:
On hasty wings thy youth is flown;
Thy sun is set, thy spring is gone.
We frolick, while 'tis May.
ODE ON THE DEATH OF A