Innumerable numbers of fair Lamps
Were rightly ranged in this hollow hole,
To warm the world and chace the shady damps
Of immense darknesse, rend her pitchie stole
Into short rags more dustie dimme then coal.
Which pieces then in severall were cast
(Abhorred reliques of that vesture foul)
Upon the Globes that round those torches trac’d,
Which still fast on them stick for all they run so fast.