That little vernier on whose slender lines
The midnight taper trembles as it shines,
A silent index, tracks the planets march
In all their wanderings through the ethereal arch,
Tells through the mist where dazzled Mercury burns,
And marks the spot where Uranus returns.
So, till by wrong or negligence effaced,
The living index, which thy Maker traced,
Repeats the line each starry virtue draws
Through the wide circuit of creation’s laws.