The spacious firmament on high, <br /> With all the blue ethereal sky, <br /> And spangled heav'ns, a shining frame, <br /> Their great original proclaim: <br /> Th' unwearied Sun, from day to day, <br /> Does his Creator's power display, <br /> And publishes to every land <br /> The work of an Almighty Hand. <br /> <br /> Soon as the evening shades prevail, <br /> The Moon takes up the wondrous tale, <br /> And nightly to the list'ning Earth <br /> Repeats the story of her birth: <br /> Whilst all the stars that round her burn, <br /> And all the planets, in their turn, <br /> Confirm the tidings as they roll, <br /> And spread the truth from pole to pole. <br /> <br /> What though, in solemn silence, all <br /> Move round the dark terrestrial ball? <br /> What though nor real voice nor sound <br /> Amid their radiant orbs be found? <br /> In Reason's ear they all rejoice, <br /> And utter forth a glorious voice, <br /> For ever singing, as they shine, <br /> 'The Hand that made us is Divine.'<br /><br />Joseph Addison<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/ode-3/
