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A Night Prospect WRITTEN ON LINCOLN HEATH, 1751 Nigh are the rising spires of Lamplugh's fane, Stateliest of Gothic fabrics; and the crags Of ruins glimmer: every zephyr brings Into my ears the slow deep-swelling toll Of the great curfew. So, the traveller, On Lindum's heath, secure, may bate his pace, Pleased with the mild descent of purple night; While o'er the circles of her solemn vault, Eternal Wisdom with almighty hand Rolls worlds and worlds. Behold those glittering stars, And open all thy mind to think the space, Hence to each orb, that makes such glorious suns So small appear! Their moons and earths, like ours, Which round them move, are lost to ardent sight; So vast extends the distance! Yet on those Planets, to us invisible, are spread Europes and Asias, regions not unlike To those we act on. Hark, ye things of pride! God, ever gracious, sends his suns abroad To light, and cheer, and bless more realms and worlds, Than folly's narrow thought can reach to damn. John Dyer's other poems:
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