“ ‘And since, like Typhis parting from the shore, In ample seas I sail, and depths untried before, This let me farther add, that nature knows No steadfast station, but or ebbs or flows: Ever in motion; she destroys her old, And casts new figures in another mould. Ev’n times are in perpetual flux, and run, Like rivers from their fountain, rolling on; For time, no more than streams, is at a stay; The flying hour is ever on her way: And as the fountain still supplies her store, The wave behind impels the wave before: Thus in successive course the minutes run, And urge their predecessor minutes on, Still moving, ever new: for former things Are set aside, like abdicated kings; And every moment alters what is done, And innovates some act, till then unknown.