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Like me through varying seasons range, And past enjoyments mourn ; —
The fairest, sweetest Spring shall change To Winter in its turn.
In infancy, my vernal prime.
When life itself was new, Amusement pluck'cl the wings of Time,
Yet swifter still he flew.
Summer my youth succeeded soon.
My Sun ascended high. And Pleasure held the reins till noon,
But Grief drove down the sky.
Like Autumn, rich in ripening corn, Came manhood's sober reign ;
My harvest-moon scarce fill'd her horn, When she began to wane.
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