Book V: Song II: The True Sun

73 of 80 · 1 min of reading

Homer with mellifluous tongue

Phoebus' glorious light hath sung,

Hymning high his praise;

Yet his feeble rays

Ocean's hollows may not brighten,

Nor earth's central gloom enlighten.

But the might of Him, who skilled

This great universe to build,

Is not thus confined;

Not earth's solid rind,

Nor night's blackest canopy,

Baffle His all-seeing eye.

All that is, hath been, shall be,

In one glance's compass, He

Limitless descries;

And, save His, no eyes

All the world survey--no, none!

Him, then, truly name the Sun.

III.

Then said I: 'But now I am once more perplexed by a problem yet more

difficult.'

'And what is that?' said she; 'yet, in truth, I can guess what it is

that troubles you.'

· · ·

End of part 73 of 80