From the Italian of TernarÉ

"Say, who art thou, with more than mortal air,
Endowed by Heaven with gifts and graces rare,
Whom restless, wingÈd feet for ever onward bear?"—
"I am Occasion—known to few, at best;
And since one foot upon a wheel I rest,
Constant my movements are—they cannot be repressed.
"Not the swift eagle in his swiftest flight
Can equal me in speed. My wings are bright;
And man, who sees them waved, is dazzled by the sight.
"My thick and flowing locks, before me thrown,
Conceal my form—nor face, nor breast is shown,
That thus, as I approach, my coming be not known.
"Behind my head, no single lock of hair
Invites the hand, that fain would it grasp there;
But he, who lets me pass, to seize me may despair."
"Whom, then, so close behind thee do I see?"—
"Her name is Penitence; and Heaven's decree
Hath made all those her prey, who profit not by me.
"And thou, O mortal, who dost vainly ply
These curious questions, thou dost not descry,
That now thy time is lost—for I am passing by."