Classic Poem

The blue heaven spreads before me, with its keen
And countless eyes of brightness, — worlds are there, —
The boldest spirit cannot spring and dare
The peopled universe, that burns between
This earth and Nothing. — Thought can wing its way
Swifter than lightning flashes, or the beam
That hastens on the pinions of the morn;
But quicker than the glowing dart of day
It tires and faints along the starry stream,
A wave of suns through boundless ether borne. —
Though infinite, eternal! yet one power
Sits on the Almighty centre, whither tend
All worlds and beings from time's natal hour,
Till suns and all their satellites shall end.