Like this, he framed the gods' eternal bower,
And of a shapeless and confusèd mass,
By his through-piercing and digesting power,
The turning Vault of Heaven formèd was;
Whose starry wheels he hath so made to pass
As that their movings do a Music frame,
And they themselves still dance unto the same.
20.
Or if "this All, which round about we see"
As idle Morpheus some sick brains hath taught,