Deep in the bosom of His universe,
Dropp’d down that reasoning mite, that insect, Man,
To crawl, and gaze, and wonder at the scene?—
That man might ne’er presume to plead amazement
For disbelief of wonders in himself.
Shall God be less miraculous, than what
His hand has form’d? Shall mysteries descend
From unmysterious? things more elevate,
Be more familiar? uncreated lie
More obvious than created, to the grasp 830