For such vast room in Nature unpossessed By living soul, desart and desolate, 155 Only to shine, yet scarce to contribute Each orb a glimpse of light, conveyed so far Down to this habitable, which returns Light back to them, is obvious to dispute. But whether thus these things, or whether not; 160 But whether the sun, predominant in Heaven, Rise on the earth; or earth rise on the sun; He from the east his flaming road begin; Or she from west her silent course advance, With inoffensive pace that spinning sleeps 165 On her soft axle, while she paces even, And bears thee soft with the smooth hair
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