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Lettered on facing page: "81 | His essence; local is his throne, as meet, | To gather the dispersed, as standards call | The listed from afar; to fix a point-- | A central point, collective of his sons; | Since finite every nature but his own. | The nameless HE, whose nod is nature's birth; | And nature's shield the shadow of his hand; | Her dissolution his suspended smile; | The great FIRST LAST! pavilion'd high HE sits | In darkness, from excessive splendor; borne | By gods unseen, unless through lustre lost: | His glory, to created glory bright, | As that, to central horrors; HE looks down | On all that soars, and spans immensity. | Though night unnumber'd worlds unfold to view; | Boundless creation! what art thou? a beam, | A mere effluvium of his majesty: | And shall an atom of this atom world | Mutterin dust and sin the theme of heaven? | Down to the centre should I send my thought | Through beds of glittering ore, and glowing gems; | Their beggar'd blaze wants lustre for my lay, | Goes out in darkness: if on towering wing, | I send it through the boundless vault of stars; | The stars, though rich, what dross their gold to THEE! | Great--good--wise--wonderful--eternal KING! | If to those conscious stars thy throne around, | Praise ever-pouring, and imbibing bliss; | And ask their strain; they want it, more they want, | Poor their abundance, humble their sublime,"