Page:Paradise lost by Milton, John.djvu/162

156 Thy goodness beyond thought, and power divine.— Speak, ye who best can tell, ye sons of light, Angels; for ye behold him, and with songs And choral symphonies, day without night, Circle his throne rejoicing; ye in Heaven, On Earth join, all ye creatures, to extol Him first, him last, him midst, and without end. Fairest of stars, last in the train of night, If better thou belong not to the dawn, Sure pledge of day, that crownest the smiling Morn With thy bright circlet, praise him in thy sphere, While day arises, that sweet hour of prime. Thou Sun, of this great World both eye and soul, Acknowledge him thy greater; sound his praise In thy eternal course, both when thou climbest, And when high noon hast gained, and when thou fallest. Moon, that now meetest the orient Sun, now fliest With the fixed Stars, fixed in their orb that flies; And ye, five other wandering Fires, that move In mystic dance not without song, resound His praise, who out of darkness called up light. Air, and ye Elements, the eldest birth Of Nature's womb, that in quaternion run Perpetual circle, multiform, and mix And nourish all things, let your ceaseless change