shining shafts to hit.

27

But if he shine all solitarie, alone,
What mark is left,? what aimed scope or end
Of his existence? wherefore every one
Hath a due number of dim Orbs that wend
Around their centrall fire. But wrath will rend
This strange composure back'd with reason stout
And rasher tongues right speedily will spend
Their forward censure, that my wits run out
On wool-gathering, through infinite spaces all about.

28

What sober man will dare once to avouch
An infinite number of dispersed starres?
This one absurdity will make him crouch
And eat his words; Division nought impairs
The former whole, nor he augments that spares.
Strike every tenth out, that which doth remain,
An equall number with the former shares,
And let the tenth alone, th' whole nought doth gain,
For infinite to infinite is ever the same.

29

The tenth is infinite as the other nine,
Or else, nor they, nor all the ten entire
Are infinite. Thus one infinite doth adjoyn
Others unto it and still riseth higher.
And if those single lights hither aspire,
This strange prodigious inconsistencie
Groweth still stranger, if each fixed fire
(I mean each starre) prove Sunnes, and Planets flie
About their flaming heads amid the thronged skie.

30

For whatsoever that their number be
Whether by seavens, or eighths, or fives, or nines,
They round each fixed lamp; Infinity
Will be redoubled thus by many times.
Besides each greater Planet th' attendance finds
Of lesser. Our _Earths_ handmaid is the Moon,
Which to her darkned side right duly shines,
And _Jove_ hath foure, as hath been said aboven,
And _Saturn_ more then foure if the plain truth were known.

31

And if these globes be regions of life
And severall kinds of plants therein do grow,
Grasse, flowers, hearbs, trees, which the impartiall knife
Of all consuming Time still down doth mow,
And new again doth in succession show:
Which also 's done in flies, birds, men and beasts;
Adde sand, pearls, pebbles, that the ground do strow
Leaves, quills, hairs, thorns, blooms, you may think the rest
Their kinds by mortall penne can not well be exprest:

32

And if their kinds no man may reckon well,
The summe of successive particulars
No mind conceive nor tongue can ever tell.
And yet this