Slow as the shadow o’er the dial moves, 470
Slow as the stealing progress of the year.
Observe the circling year. How unperceiv’d
Her seasons change! Behold! by slow degrees,
Stern Winter tam’d into a ruder spring;
The ripen’d Spring a milder summer glows; 475
Departing Summer sheds Pomona’s store;
And aged Autumn brews the winter-storm.
Slow as they come, these changes come not void
Of mortal shocks: The cold and torrid reigns,