The sun, a world whence other worlds drink light,

The crescent moon, the diadem of night;

Stars countless, each in his appointed place,

Fast anchored in the deep abyss of space ---

At such a sight to catch the poet's flame,

And with a rapture like his own exclaim,

" These are thy glorious works, thou Source of good,

How dimly seen, how faintly understood!

Thine, and upheld by Thy paternal care,

This universal frame, thus wondrous fair;

Thy power divine, and bounty beyond thought,

Adored and praised in all that Thou hast wrought."

---- William Cowper