Travelling east, and with her part averse From the sun’s beam meet night, her other part Still luminous by his ray. What if that light, Sent from her through the wide transpicuous air, To the terrestrial moon be as a star, Enlightening her by day, as she by night This Earth⁠—reciprocal, if land be there, Fields and inhabitants? Her spots thou seest As clouds, and clouds may rain, and rain produce Fruits in her softened soil, for some to eat Allotted there; and other suns, perhaps, With their attendant moons, thou wilt descry, Communicating male and female light, Which two great sexes animate the World, Stored in each orb perhaps with some that live. For such vast room in Nature unpossessed By living soul, desert and desolate, 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— Whether the sun, predominant in heaven, Rise on the Earth, or Earth rise on the sun;