Care climbs the bark, and trims the sail,Curst fiend! nor troops of horse can 'scape her,More swift than stag, more swift than galeThat drives the vapour.Blest in the present, look not forthOn ills beyond, but soothe each bitterWith slow, calm smile. No suns on earthUnclouded glitter.Achilles' light was quench'd at noon;A long decay Tithonus minish'd;My hours, it may be, yet will runWhen yours are flnish'd.For you Sicilian heifers low,Bleat countless flocks; for you are neighingProud coursers; Afric purples glowFor your arrayingWith double dyes; a small domain,The soul that breathed in Grecian harping,My portion these; and high disdainOf ribald carping.