For day to break, it wants the rise of God’s sunlight.
Behold a sun for thee, in mote contained and hid;
A rampant lion, clad in pelt of gentlest kid.
Behold a hidden sea, beneath a blade of grass.
Beware! Tread not thereon in doubt. Thou sink’st, alas!260
Doubt and incertitude, when felt in pious breast,
Are mercies from on high; a leader gives them rest.
A prophet ’s sole and solitary in the world.
Sole; but within him bears a thousand systems furled.
As though by magic, the vast universe he makes