When the box was opened, there issued from it a multitude of evils and
distempers, which dispersed themselves over the world, and which from that
fatal moment have never ceased to afflict the human race. Hope alone
remained at the bottom, and that only has the power of easing the labours
of man, and rendering his troubles less painful.
"But thou, oh! Hope, with eyes so fair,
What was thy delighted measure?
Still it whispered promised pleasure,
And bade the lovely scenes at distance hail!
Still would her touch the strain prolong,
And from the rocks, the woods, the vale,
She called on Echo still throughout the song;
And where her sweetest theme she chose
A soft responsive voice was heard at every close,
And Hope, enchanted, smiled and waved her golden hair!"