This Horror Will Grow Mild,

Long Is The Way And Hard, That Out Of Hell Leads Up To Light.

Bacchus, That First From Out The Purple Grape Crush'd The Sweet Poison Of Misused Wine.

To Many A Youth And Many A Maid, Dancing In The Chequer'd Shade.

Have Hung My Dank And Dropping Weeds To The Stern God Of Sea.

Confusion Heard His Voice, And Wild Uproar Stood Ruled, Stood Vast Infinitude Confined; Till At His Second Bidding Darkness Fled, Light Shone, And Order From Disorder Sprung.