For clothes her breath, for couch turf soft as silk.
Fit season for creative pow’rs to wake,
When cold did not numb, gusts confusion make,
And unlike natures could in peace assume
Their just traits, and find, without jostling, room.
With fair intervals since the birth of Man,
Almost each beast and bird we know began
To range mountains and air, although at length
Earth, like to mortal mothers, waned in strength.
Change is Nature’s prime law; stage follows stage;