I see nothing save a mass
Of most innumerable lights.
Of most innumerable lights.
Byron
Is your course measured for ye? Or do ye
Sweep on in your unbounded revelry
Through an aerial universe of endless
Expansion--at which my soul aches to think--
Intoxicated with eternity[113]?
Oh God! Oh Gods! or whatsoe'er ye are! 110
How beautiful ye are! how beautiful
Your works, or accidents, or whatsoe'er
They may be! Let me die, as atoms die,
(If that they die), or know ye in your might
And knowledge! My thoughts are not in this hour
Unworthy what I see, though my dust is;
Spirit! let me expire, or see them nearer.
_Lucifer_. Art thou not nearer? look back to thine earth!
_Cain_. Where is it?
I see nothing save a mass
Of most innumerable lights.
_Lucifer_. Look there! 120
_Cain_. I cannot see it.
_Lucifer_. Yet it sparkles still.
_Cain_. That! --yonder!
_Lucifer_. Yea.
_Cain_. And wilt thou tell me so?
Why, I have seen the fire-flies and fire-worms
Sprinkle the dusky groves and the green banks
In the dim twilight, brighter than yon world
Which bears them.
_Lucifer_.
