Makes Saturn old, when Time was young.)
As yet his winters had not shed
Their silver honours on his head;
He just had got his pinions free
From his old sire Eternity.
A serpent girdled round he wore,
The tail within the mouth before;
By which our almanacs are clear
That learned Egypt meant the year. 60
A staff he carried, where on high
A glass was fix'd to measure by,
As amber boxes made a show
For heads of canes an age ago.
His vest, for day and night, was pied,
A bending sickle arm'd his side,
And Spring's new months his train adorn;
The other Seasons were unborn.

Known by the gods, as near he draws,
They make him umpire of the cause. 70
O'er a low trunk his arm he laid,
(Where since his Hours a dial made;)
Then, leaning, heard the nice debate,
And thus pronounced the words of Fate:

Since Body from the parent Earth,
And Soul from Jove received a birth,
Return they where they first began;
But since their union makes the Man,
Till Jove and Earth shall part these two,