The early Year's fast-flying vapours stray
In shadowing trains across the orb of day:
And we, poor Insects of a few short hours,
       &nbspDeem it a world of Gloom.
Were it not better hope a nobler doom,
Proud to believe that with more active powers
       &nbspOn rapid many-coloured wing
       &nbspWe thro' one bright perpetual Spring
Shall hover round the fruits and flowers,
Screen'd by those clouds and cherish'd by those showers!