heaven.
How distant some of these nocturnal suns!
So distant (says the sage), 'twere not absurd
To doubt, if beams, set out at Nature's birth,
Are yet arrived at this so foreign world;
Though nothing half so rapid as their flight. 1230
An eye of awe and wonder let me roll,
And roll for ever: who can satiate sight
In such a scene? in such an ocean wide
Of deep astonishment? where depth, height, breadth,
Are lost in their extremes; and where to count 1235
The thick-sown glories in this field of fire,
Perhaps a seraph's computation fails.
Now, go, Ambition! boast thy boundless might
In conquest, o'er the tenth part of a grain.
And yet Lorenzo calls for miracles,
To give his tottering faith a solid base.
Why call for less than is already thine? 1242
Thou art no novice in theology;
What is a miracle?--'Tis a reproach,
'Tis an implicit satire, on mankind;
And while it satisfies, it censures too.
To common sense, great Nature's course proclaims
A Deity: when mankind falls asleep,
A miracle is sent, as an alarm;
To wake the world, and prove Him o'er again, 1250
By recent argument, but not more strong.
Say, which imports more plenitude of power,
Or nature's laws to fix, or to repeal?
To make a sun, or stop his mid career?
To countermand his orders, and send back
The flaming courier to the frighted east,
Warm'd, and astonish'd, at his evening ray?
Or bid the moon, as with her journey tired,
In Ajalon's[67] soft, flowery vale repose?
Great things are these; still greater, to create. 1260
From Adam's bower look down through the whole train
Of miracles;--resistless is their power?
They do not, can not, more amaze the mind,
Than this, call'd unmiraculous survey,
If duly weigh'd, if rationally seen,
If seen with human eyes. The brute, indeed,
Sees nought but spangles here; the fool, no more.
Say'st thou, "The course of nature governs all?"
The course of Nature is the art of God. 1269
The miracles thou call'st for, this attest;
For say, could Nature Nature's course control?
But, miracles apart, who sees Him not,
Nature's controller, author, guide, and end?
Who turns his eye on Nature's midnight face,
But must inquire--"What hand behind the scene,
What arm almighty, put these wheeling globes