And in the ambient cloud appears divine.
Remove the cloud, kind Heav'n, and shew that ray
Sparkling in brightest splendour of the day!
Content with trials of misfortunes past,
Allow deserved honours at the last!
Had I been born with Homer's fertil vein,
Or softer genius of the Mantuan swain,
To've rais'd an Iliad in my sov'reign's praise,
And sing his fame in never-dying lays,
The world had first admir'd his manly state,