192 XOTICED BY THE POETS. 



Nor deem'd before his little day was done. 

 One blast might chill him into misery." 



Canto I. St. IV. 



In a similar spirit, Cowper, in his natural and reflect- 

 ive poem of " Tlie Garden," has remarked, — 



" The million flit as g-ay, 



As if created only like the fly, 



That spreads his motley wings in th' eye of noon. 



To sport their season, and be seen no more." 



The same idea appears still more amplified in Gray'.s 

 delightful " Ode to Spring." After he has told us — 



"The insect youth are on the wing," 



mentioned the habitats of some, and the " gilded 

 trim" of others 



, " Quick glancing to the sun," 



he proceeds to develope the reflections awakened by 

 their appearance : — 



"To Contemplation's sober eye, 

 Such is the race of man ; 

 And they that creep, and they that fly, 

 Shall end where they began. 

 Alike the busy and the gay, 

 But flutter through life's little day. 

 In Fortune's varying colours dress'd, 

 Brush'd by the hand of rough Mischance, 

 Or chill'd by Age, their airy dance 

 They leave, in dust to rest." 



You will see, therefore, my dear friend, that in 

 this, as in other departments of my favourite science, 

 the objects are not onlj- interesting themselves, but 



