Twelve signs throughout the zodiac every year:
'Tis he, that at the spicy spring's gay birth
Makes pencils of his beams and paints the Earth;
He limns the rainbow when it struts so proud
Upon the dusky surface of a cloud;
He daubs the Moors, and, when they sweat with toil,
50'Tis then he paints them all at length in oil;
The blushing fruits, the gloss of flowers so pure,
Owe their varieties to his miniature.
Yet, what's the Sun? each thing, where'er we go,