To Be Blind Is Not Miserable; Not

Into This Wild Abyss, The Womb Of Nature And Perhaps Her Grave.

O When Meet Now Such Pairs, In Love And Mutual Honour Joined?

And Pomp, And Feast, And Revelry, With Mask, And Antique Pageantry, Such Sights As Youthful Poets Dream On Summer Eves By Haunted Stream.

Hail Universal Lord, Be Bounteous Still To Give Us Only Good; And If The Night Have Gathered Aught Of Evil Or Concealed, Disperse It, As Now Light Dispels The Dark.

Virtue Hath No Tongue To Check Vice's Pride.