Darts not His glory a still brighter ray,
The less is left to Chaos, and the realms
Of hideous Night, where Fancy strays aghast; 1573
And, though most talkative, makes no report?
Still seems my thought enormous? Think again;—
Experience’ self shall aid thy lame belief.
Glasses (that revelation to the sight!)
Have they not led us in the deep disclose
Of fine-spun nature, exquisitely small,
And, though demonstrated, still ill-conceived? 1580