O Winter, Ruler Of The Inverted Year!

Absence From Whom We Love Is Worse Than Death, And Frustrates Hope Severer Than Despair.

Thus Happiness Depends, As Nature Shows, Less On Exterior Things Than Most Suppose.

And Diff'ring Judgments Serve But To Declare That Truth Lies Somewhere, If We Knew But Where.

Religion, Richest Favor Of The Skies.

When One That Holds Communion With The Skies Has Fill'd His Urn Where These Pure Waters Rise, And Once More Mingles With Us Meaner Things, 'tis E'en As If An Angel Shook His Wings.