WHEN I survey the bright 
   Celestial sphere; 
So rich with jewels hung, that Night 
   Doth like an Ethiop bride appear: 

   My soul her wings doth spread 
   And heavenward flies, 
Th' Almighty's mysteries to read 
   In the large volumes of the skies. 

   For the bright firmament 
   Shoots forth no flame 
So silent, but is eloquent 
   In speaking the Creator's name. 

   No unregarded star 
   Contracts its light 
Into so small a character, 
   Removed far from our human sight, 

   But if we steadfast look 
   We shall discern 
In it, as in some holy book, 
   How man may heavenly knowledge learn. 

   It tells the conqueror 
   That far-stretch'd power, 
Which his proud dangers traffic for, 
   Is but the triumph of an hour: 

   That from the farthest North, 
   Some nation may, 
Yet undiscover'd, issue forth, 
   And o'er his new-got conquest sway: 

   Some nation yet shut in 
   With hills of ice 
May be let out to scourge his sin, 
   Till they shall equal him in vice. 

   And then they likewise shall 
   Their ruin have; 
For as yourselves your empires fall, 
   And every kingdom hath a grave. 

   Thus those celestial fires, 
   Though seeming mute, 
The fallacy of our desires 
   And all the pride of life confute:-- 

   For they have watch'd since first 
   The World had birth: 
And found sin in itself accurst, 
   And nothing permanent on Earth.