When polar flames suffuse my skies with splendour?
And mine the homage with the sun to share,
His vagrant vassals rush through space to render?
Who calls me secret? are not hidden things,
Reveal’d to science when with piercing sight
She looks beneath the shadow of my wings,
To fathom space and sound the infinite?
In plasmic light do I not bid her trace
Germs from creation’s dawn maturing slow?