From purling streams and the Elysian scene,
From groves that smile with never-fading green,
I reascend: in Atropos' despite
Restored to Celadon and upper light.
Ye gods, that sway the regions under ground,
Reveal to mortal view your realms profound;
At his command admit the eye of day:
When Celadon commands, what god can disobey?
Nor seeks he your Tartarean fires to know,
The house of torture and the abyss of woe;
But happy fields and mansions free from pain,
Gay meads and springing flowers, best please the gentle swain.