An hint of this we have in winter-nights,
When reason may see clearer then our eye,
Small subtil starres appear unto our sights
As thick as pin-dust scattered in the skie.
Here we accuse our seeing facultie
Of weaknesse, and our sense of foul deceit,
We do accuse and yet we know not why.
But the plain truth is, from a vaster hight
The numerous upper worlds amaze our dazzled sight.