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He views in bredth, and without longer pauſe
Down right into the Worlds firſt Region throws
His flight precipitant, and windes with eaſe
Through the pure marble Air his oblique way
Amongſt innumerable Stars, that ſhon
Stars diſtant, but nigh hand ſeemd other Worlds,
Or other Worlds they ſeemd, or happy Iles,
Like thoſe Heſperian Gardens fam'd of old,
Fortunate Fields, and Groves and flourie Vales,
570Thrice happy Iles, but who dwelt happy there
He ſtayd not to enquire: above them all
The golden Sun in ſplendor likeſt Heaven
Allur'd his eye: Thither his courſe he bends
Through the calm Firmament; but up or downe
By center, or eccentric, hard to tell,
Or Longitude, where the great Luminarie
Alooff the vulgar Conſtellations thick,
That from his Lordly eye keep diſtance due,
Diſpenſes Light from farr; they as they move
580Thir Sarry dance in numbers that compute
Days, months, and years, towards his all-cheering Lamp
Turn ſwift their various motions, or are turnd
By his Magnetic beam, that gently warms
The Univers, and to each inward part
With gentle penetration, though unſeen,
Shoots inviſible vertue even to the deep:
So wondrouſly was ſet his Station bright.
There lands the Fiend, a ſpot like which perhaps
Aſtronomer in the Sun’s lucent Orbe
590Through his glaz'd Optic Tube yet never ſaw.
The place he found beyond expreſſion bright,
Compar'd with aught on Earth, Medal or Stone;