And fleet-hoof’d steeds; and on dark ocean’s way
Launch the oar’d galley; few will trust the day.
Pierce on the fourth thy cask; the fourteenth prize
As holy; and when morning paints the skies
The twenty-fourth is best; (few this have known;)
But worst of days when noon has fainter grown.
These are the days of which the careful heed
Each human enterprise will favouring speed:
Others there are, which intermediate fall,
Mark’d with no auspice and unomen’d all: