“And swift and swift beyond conceiving
The splendor of the world goes round,
Day’s Eden-brightness still relieving
The awful Night’s intense profound.
The ocean tides in foam are breaking,
Against the rocks’ deep bases hurled,
And both, the spheric race partaking,
Eternal, swift, are onward whirled.”[5]
[5] Bayard Taylor’s translation.
So, indeed, might an angel see it and describe it!