Most men admire Virtue who follow not her lore.
See golden days, fruitful of golden deeds, With joy and love triumphing.
Few sometimes may know, when thousands err.
Who, as they sung, would take the prison'd soul And lap it in Elysium.
Take heed lest passion sway Thy judgement to do aught, which else free will Would not admit.
In dim eclipse, disastrous twilight sheds On half the nations, and with fear of change Perplexes monarchs.