Thus like a red and tempest-boding morn
His dawning is: for being newly born
He hails th' ensuing storm with shrieks and cries,
30And fines for his admission with wet eyes.
How should that plant, whose leaf is bath'd in tears,
Bear but a bitter fruit in elder years?
Just such is this, and his maturer age
Teems with event more sad than the presage.
For view him higher, when his childhood's span
Is raised up to youth's meridian;