Let your character be kept up the very end, just as it began, and so be consistent.
The muse does not allow the praise-de-serving here to die: she enthrones him in the heavens.
Dispel the cold, bounteously replenishing the hearth with logs.
For example, the tiny ant, a creature of great industry, drags with its mouth whatever it can, and adds it to the heap which she is piling up, not unaware nor careless of the future.
Victory is by nature superb and insulting.
Dull winter will re-appear.