PASS. Pass. Pass. Thou hast had thine hour To sow in and reap. Is it thistle for flower? 'T is the seed is at fault, e'en though Jove stayed the shower; Make way for thy comrade with double thy dower. Halt. Halt. Halt. There was given thee grace To begin with the best and their records efface Had thy sandals been winged. Step down from the race. One swifter than thou art would run in thy place. Cease. Cease. Cease. Thou hast had thy chance. Must a Pallas attend thee, to ward off mischance? Let fall thy vain weapon. A thousand advance To rush on and win with thy pitiful lance. |