The untired strength of never-ceasing motion,
A restless rest, a toilless operation,
Heaven then had given it, when wise Nature did
To frail and solid things one place forbid;
And parting both, made the moon's orb their bound,
Damning to various change this lower ground.
But now what Nature hath those laws transgress'd,
Giving to Earth a work that ne'er will rest?
Though 'tis most strange, yet—great King—'tis not new:
This work was seen and found before, in you.
In you, whose mind—though still calm—never sleeps,
But through your realms one constant motion keeps:
As your mind—then—was Heaven's type first, so this
But the taught anti-type of your mind is.