Such only those Delights shall share,
Which in Perfection still are there;
Delights too great for us to know,
While we're thus hood-wink'd here below;
While we to Flesh are thus confin'd,
To Flesh, that Darkner of the Mind;
That Medium , which obscures the Light,
That worse than an Egypttan Night:
But when we've thrown this Veil aside,
Dispell'd those Shades, which Day does hide;
When from the Cells in which we lie,
All Thought, to glorious Heights we fly:
We then shall Truths with Clearness see,
Shall then as wise as knowing be;
As finite Intellects can prove,
As much possess, as much shall love,
And all our rapt'rous Hours employ
In highest Extacies of Joy.