When air comes rushing in autumnal rain,
And curls with many a ridge the troubled main.
[126]Men, too, may sail in spring: when first the crow
Imprinting with light steps the sands below,
As many thinly-scatter’d leaves are seen
To clothe the fig-tree’s top with tender green.
This vernal voyage practicable seems,
And pervious are the boundless ocean-streams:
I praise it not: for thou with anxious mind
Must hasty snatch th’ occasion of the wind.