When Mutability, in drunken joy
Triumphant, and from all restraint released,
Let loose her fierce and many-headed beast.
"But for the scars in that unhappy rage
Inflicted, firm she stands and undecayed;
Like our first Sires, a beautiful old age
Is hers in venerable years arrayed;
And yet, to her, benignant stars may bring,
What fate denies to man,—a second spring.
"When I may read of tilts in days of old,