And every step is fresh infinity.
What were the God who sat outside to scan
The spheres that ’neath his finger circling ran?
God dwells within, and moves the world and moulds,
Himself and Nature in one form enfolds:
Thus all that lives in Him and breathes and is,
Shall ne’er His puissance, ne’er His spirit miss.
The soul of man, too, is an universe:
Whence follows it that race with race concurs
In naming all it knows of good and true