GetPassage urn:cts:latinLit:phi0893.phi001.perseus-eng2:4.7.7-4.7.22 urn:cts:latinLit:phi0893.phi001.perseus-eng2:4.7.7-4.7.22

“No 'scaping death” proclaims the year, that speedsThis sweet spring day.Frosts yield to zephyrs; Summer drives out Spring,To vanish, whenRich Autumn sheds his fruits; round wheels the ring,—Winter again!Yet the swift moons repair Heaven's detriment:We, soon as thrustWhere good Aeneas, Tullus, Ancus went,What are we? dust.Can Hope assure you one more day to liveFrom powers above?You rescue from your heir whate'er you giveThe self you love.When life is o'er, and Minos has rehearsedThe grand last doom,