Bacchus, ever fair and ever young. - John Dryden

The gates of hell are open night and day;
Smooth the descent, and easy is the way:
But to return, and view the cheerful skies,
In this the task and mighty labor lies.

But Shakespeare's magic could not copied be;
Within that circle none durst walk but he.

But grieve not, while thou stayest,
My last disastrous times:
Think we have had a clear and glorious day
And Heaven did kindly to delay the storm,
Just till our close of evening.