On fickle Fortune’s favouring smile depend.
Ev’n godlike Paoli’s confest her sway,
By her they flourish and by her they fade;
The adverse fortune of one hapless day
Condemns thee to oblivion’s dreary shade.
Such is a brittle bubble blown in air,
Such the bright lustre of the morning skies;
So some tall tree may vernal honours bear,
And bloomy verdure charm the wondering eyes:
But, ah! how fleeting the illusive glare