II
The light which on ten thousand faces shines,
The beams which crown ten thousand vines
With glory, and delight, appear
As if they were
Reflected only from them all for me,
That I a greater beauty there might see.
Thus stars do beautify
The azure canopy:
Gilded with rays,
Ten thousand ways
They serve me, while the sun that on them shines
Adorns those stars and crowns those bleeding vines.