Book V, Song II: The True Sun

Homer with mellifluous tongue
Phoebus' glorious light hath sung,
Hymning high his praise;
Yet his feeble rays
Ocean's hollows may not brighten,
Nor earth's central gloom enlighten.

But the might of Him, who skilled
This great universe to build,
Is not thus confined;
Not earth's solid rind,
Nor night's blackest canopy,
Baffle His all-seeing eye.

All that is, hath been, shall be,
In one glance's compass, He
Limitless descries;
And, save His, no eyes
All the world survey--no, none!
Him, then, truly name the Sun.