Though plunged, before, in horrors dark as night.
Rich prelibation of consummate joy!
Nor wait we dissolution to be blest.
This final effort of the moral Muse,
How justly titled![77] Nor for me alone:
For all that read; what spirit of support,
What heights of Consolation, crown my song!
Then, farewell Night! of darkness, now, no more:
Joy breaks, shines, triumphs; ’tis eternal day.
Shall that which rises out of nought complain 2380