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The spacious firmament on high, With all the blue ethereal sky, And spangled heavens, a shining frame, Their great Original proclaim. Forever singing, as they shine, The hand that made us is divine.

What are ye orbs? The words of God? the Scriptures of the skies?

Surely the stars are images of love.

The stars, Which stand as thick as dewdrops on the fields Of heaven.

We have also a more sure word of prophecy; whereunto ye do well that ye take heed, as unto a light that shineth in a dark place, until the day dawn, and the day star arise in your hearts: Knowing this first, that no prophecy of the scripture is of any private interpretation.

Canst thou bind, the sweet influences of Pleiades, or loose the bands of Orion?

Canst thou bring forth Mazzaroth in his season? or canst thou guide Arcturus with his sons?

Whereupon are the foundations thereof fastened? or who laid the corner stone thereof; When the morning stars sang together, and all the sons of God shouted for joy?

They fought from heaven; the stars in their courses fought against Sisera.

The sad and solemn night Hath yet her multitude of cheerful fires; The glorious host of light Walk the dark hemisphere till she retires; All through her silent watches, gliding slow, Her constellations come, and climb the heavens, and go.

When stars are in the quiet skies, Then most I pine for thee; Bend on me then thy tender eyes, As stars look on the sea.

The number is certainly the cause. The apparent disorder augments the grandeur, for the appearance of care is highly contrary to our ideas of magnificence. Besides, the stars lie in such apparent confusion, as makes it impossible on ordinary occasion to reckon them. This gives them the advantage of a sort of infinity.

A grisly meteor on his face.

This hairy meteor did announce The fall of sceptres and of crowns.

Cry out upon the stars for doing Ill offices, to cross their wooing.

Like the lost pleiad seen no more below.

Where Andes, giant of the western star, With meteor standard to the winds unfurl'd.

In yonder pensile orb, and every sphere That gems the starry girdle of the year.

And the sentinel stars set their watch in the sky.

Now twilight lets her curtain down And pins it with a star.