The vast displosion dissipates the clouds; Shock'd ether's billows dash the distant skies; 796 Thus (but far more) th' expanding round flies off, And leaves a mighty void, a spacious womb, Might teem with new creation; reinflamed Thy luminaries triumph, and assume Divinity themselves. Nor was it strange, Matter high-wrought to such surprising pomp, Such godlike glory, stole the style of gods, 803 From ages dark, obtuse, and steep'd in sense; For, sure, to sense, they truly are divine, And half absolved idolatry from guilt; Nay, turn'd it into virtue. Such it was In those, who put forth all they had of man Unlost, to lift their thought, nor mounted higher; But, weak of wing, on planets perch'd; and thought 810 What was their highest, must be their adored. But they how weak, who could no higher mount? And are there, then, Lorenzo! those, to whom Unseen, and unexistent, are the same? And if incomprehensible is join'd, Who dare pronounce it madness, to believe? Why has the mighty Builder thrown aside All measure in His work; stretch'd out His line So far, and spread amazement o'er the whole? Then (as he took delight in wide extremes), 820 Deep in the bosom of His universe, Dropp'd down that reasoning mite, that insect, Man, To crawl, and gaze, and wonder at the scene?-- That man might ne'er presume to plead amazement For disbelief of wonders in himself. Shall God be less miraculous, than what His hand has form'd? Shall mysteries descend From unmysterious? things more elevate, Be more familiar? uncreated lie More obvious than created, to the grasp 830 Of human thought? The more of wonderful Is heard in Him, the more we should assent. Could we conceive Him, God He could not be; Or He not God, or we could not be men. A God alone can comprehend a God; Man's distance how immense! On such a theme, Know this, Lorenzo! (seem it ne'er so strange) Nothing can satisfy, but what confounds; Nothing, but what astonishes, is true. The scene thou seest, attests the truth I sing, 840 And every star sheds light upon thy creed. These stars, this furniture, this cost of heaven, If but reported, thou hadst ne'er believed; But thine eye tells thee, the romance is true. The grand of nature is th' Almighty's oath, In Reason's court, to silence Unbelief. How my mind, opening at this scene, imbibes The moral emanations of the skies, While nought, perhaps, Lorenzo less admires! Has the Great Sovereign sent ten thousand worlds 850 To tells us, He resides above them all, In glory's unapproachable recess? And dare earth's bold inhabitants deny The sumptuous, the magnific embassy A moment's audience? Turn we, nor will hear From whom they come, or what they would impart