Never tires to please them; still
Paints the lily at their will,
Varies the rainbow’s order, gilds the gold
On Ebro’s banks, dyes the wool in the fold,
Wooes by soft stratagems her nursling, Man,
To feel motherliness in all her plan
Of change for him, while she shows
Her own bliss in a dog-rose!
Fate has decreed; the Destinies obey
Eternal laws, and bid their spindles play: