Time drops in decay Like a candle burnt out. And the mountains and woods Have their day, have their day; But, kindly old rout Of the fire-born moods, You pass not away.
You’ve got mountains of your own, I’ll bet on it. Take heart. Be encouraged. Remain steadfast. Hang on for dear life. You’ve got a better grip than you realize.
What will this boaster produce worthy of this mouthing? The mountains are in labor; a ridiculous mouse will be born.
[Lat., Quid dignum tanto feret hic promissor hiatu?
Parturiunt montes; nascetur ridiculus mus.]