Classic Poem

To the same purpose: he, not long before
Brought home from nurse, going to the door
To do some little thing
He must not do within,
With wonder cries,
As in the skies
He saw the moon, "O yonder is the moon,
Newly come after me to town,
That shined at Lugwardin but yesternight,
Where I enjoyed the self-same sight."

As if it had ev'n twenty thousand faces,
It shines at once in many places;
To all the earth so wide
God doth the stars divide,
With so much art
The moon impart,
They serve us all; serve wholly every one
As if they servéd him alone.
While every single person hath such store,
'Tis want of sense that makes us poor.