voluminous instruction here! 1630
What page of wisdom is denied him? None;
If learning his chief lesson makes him wise.
Nor is instruction, here, our only gain;
There dwells a noble pathos in the skies,
Which warms our passions, proselytes our hearts.
How eloquently shines the glowing pole!
With what authority it gives its charge,
Remonstrating great truths in style sublime,
Though silent, loud! heard earth around; above
The planets heard; and not unheard in hell; 1640
Hell has her wonder, though too proud to praise.
Is earth, then, more infernal? Has she those,
Who neither praise (Lorenzo!) nor admire?
Lorenzo's admiration, pre-engaged,
Ne'er ask'd the moon one question; never held
Least correspondence with a single star;
Ne'er rear'd an altar to the Queen of Heaven
Walking in brightness; or her train adored.
Their sublunary rivals have long since
Engross'd his whole devotion; stars malign, 1650
Which made the fond astronomer run mad;
Darken his intellect, corrupt his heart;
Cause him to sacrifice his fame and peace
To momentary madness, call'd delight.
Idolater, more gross than ever kiss'd
The lifted hand to Luna, or pour'd out
The blood to Jove!--O Thou, to whom belongs
All sacrifice! O Thou Great Jove unfeign'd!
Divine Instructor! Thy first volume, this,
For man's perusal; all in capitals! 1660
In moon, and stars (heaven's golden alphabet!)
Emblazed to seize the sight; who runs, may read;
Who reads, can understand. 'Tis unconfined
To Christian land, or Jewry; fairly writ,
In language universal, to mankind:
A language, lofty to the learn'd: yet plain
To those that feed the flock, or guide the plough,
Or, from his husk, strike out the bounding grain.
A language, worthy the Great Mind, that speaks!
Preface, and comment, to the sacred page! 1670
Which oft refers its reader to the skies,
As presupposing his first lesson there,
And Scripture self a fragment, that unread.
Stupendous book of wisdom, to the wise! 1674
Stupendous book! and open'd, Night! by thee.
By thee much open'd, I confess, O Night!
Yet more I wish; but how shall I prevail?
Say, gentle Night! whose modest, maiden beams
Give us a new creation, and present
The world's great picture soften'd