To tempt his eye, and aid his towering thought; 1713 Till it arrives at the great goal of all. In ardent Contemplation's rapid car, From earth, as from my barrier, I set out. How swift I mount! Diminish'd earth recedes; I pass the moon; and, from her farther side, Pierce heaven's blue curtain; strike into remote; Where, with his lifted tube, the subtle sage 1720 His artificial, airy journey takes, And to celestial lengthens human sight. I pause at every planet on my road, And ask for Him who gives their orbs to roll, Their foreheads fair to shine. From Saturn's ring, In which, of earths an army might be lost, With the bold comet, take my bolder flight, Amid those sovereign glories of the skies, Of independent, native lustre, proud; The souls of systems! and the lords of life, 1730 Through their wide empires!--What behold I now? A wilderness of wonder burning round; Where larger suns inhabit higher spheres; Perhaps the villas of descending gods; Nor halt I here; my toil is but begun; 'Tis but the threshold of the Deity; Or, far beneath it, I am grovelling still. Nor is it strange; I built on a mistake; The grandeur of his works, whence folly sought For aid, to reason sets his glory higher; 1740 Who built thus high for worms (mere worms to Him), Oh, where, Lorenzo! must the Builder dwell? Pause, then; and, for a moment, here respire-- If human thought can keep its station here. Where am I?--Where is earth?--Nay, where art thou, O sun?--Is the sun turn'd recluse?--and are His boasted expeditions short to mine?-- To mine, how short! On nature's Alps I stand, And see a thousand firmaments beneath! A thousand systems! as a thousand grains! 1750 So much a stranger, and so late arrived, How can man's curious spirit not inquire, What are the natives of this world sublime, Of this so foreign, unterrestrial sphere, Where mortal, untranslated, never stray'd? "O ye, as distant from my little home, As swiftest sunbeams in an age can fly! Far from my native element I roam, In quest of new, and wonderful, to man. What province this, of His immense domain, 1760 Whom all obeys? Or mortals here, or gods? Ye borderers on the coasts of bliss! what are you? A colony from heaven? or, only raised, By frequent visit from heaven's neighbouring realms, To secondary gods, and half divine?-- Whate'er your nature, this is past dispute, Far other life you live, far other tongue You talk, far other thought, perhaps, you think, Than man. How various are the works of God? But say, what thought? Is Reason here enthroned, 1770 And absolute? or Sense in arms against her? Have you two lights? Or need you no reveal'd? Enjoy your happy realms their golden age?