"Sombre thou callest it, and solemn I, Who find in such solemnity a joy; But different, yea, from the light-thoughted Greek." Less as in converse than soliloquy Deep-musing so to Sergius Saul replied. "Our bard Isaiah modulates the strain Into another mood less pastoral. He pours divine contempt on idol gods, On idol gods and on their worshippers; And then majestically hymns His praise Who made yon host of heaven and leads them out. 'To whom then will ye liken God?' he cries, 'Or what similitude to Him compare? 'The skilled artificer an image forms, 'And this the goldsmith overlays with gold, 'And tricks it smartly out with silver chains: 'Or haply one too poor for cost like this 'Chooseth him out a tree judged sound and good, 'And seeks a cunning workman who shall thence 'Grave him an image that may shift to stand! 'But nay, ye foolish, have ye then not known? 'Not heard have ye? You hath it not been told 'From the remote beginning of the world? 'From the foundations of the ancient earth 'Have ye indeed so missed to understand? 'He sits upon the circle of the earth 'And they that dwell therein are grasshoppers; 'He as a curtain doth the heavens outspread, 'And makes a blue pavilion of the sky. 'To whom then will ye liken Me? saith God; 'Whom shall I equal? saith the Holy One. 'Lift up your eyes on high, the heavens behold-- 'Who hath these things created? who their host 'By number bringeth out, and all by names 'Calls? By the greatness of His might, for that 'So strong in power is He, not one star fails.'"