From day to day by his enlivening breath, Inferior orders in succession rise To fill the void below. As flame ascends, As vapours to the earth in showers return, As the poised ocean towards the attracting moon Swells, and the ever-listening planets, charm'd By the sun's call, their onward pace incline, So all things which have life aspire to God, Exhaustless fount of intellectual day! 270 Centre of souls! Nor doth the mastering voice Of Nature cease within to prompt aright Their steps; nor is the care of Heaven withheld From sending to the toil external aid; That in their stations all may persevere To climb the ascent of being, and approach For ever nearer to the life divine. But this eternal fabric was not raised For man's inspection. Though to some be given To catch a transient visionary glimpse 280 Of that majestic scene which boundless power Prepares for perfect goodness, yet in vain Would human life her faculties expand To embosom such an object. Nor could e'er Virtue or praise have touch'd the hearts of men, Had not the Sovereign Guide, through every stage Of this their various journey, pointed out New hopes, new toils, which, to their humble sphere Of sight and strength, might such importance hold As doth the wide creation to his own. 290 Hence all the little charities of life, With all their duties; hence that favourite palm Of human will, when duty is sufficed, And still the liberal soul in ampler deeds Would manifest herself; that sacred sign Of her revered affinity to Him Whose bounties are his own; to whom none said, 'Create the wisest, fullest, fairest world, And make its offspring happy;' who, intent Some likeness of Himself among his works 300 To view, hath pour'd into the human breast A ray of knowledge and of love, which guides Earth's feeble race to act their Maker's part, Self-judging, self-obliged; while, from before That godlike function, the gigantic power Necessity, though wont to curb the force Of Chaos and the savage elements, Retires abash'd, as from a scene too high For her brute tyranny, and with her bears Her scorned followers, Terror, and base Awe 310 Who blinds herself, and that ill-suited pair, Obedience link'd with Hatred. Then the soul Arises in her strength; and, looking round Her busy sphere, whatever work she views, Whatever counsel bearing any trace Of her Creator's likeness, whether apt To aid her fellows or preserve herself In her superior functions unimpair'd, Thither she turns exulting: that she claims As her peculiar good: on that, through all 320 The fickle seasons of the day, she looks With reverence still: to that, as to a fence Against affliction and the darts of pain, Her drooping hopes repair--and, once opposed