Hunt and Lee, comps. The Book of the Sonnet. 1867.
IV. The blue heaven spreads before meJames Gates Percival (17951856)
T
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 countless 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.