Saw I become that standard, which of lauds 1715 Was interwoven of the grace divine, With such songs as he knows who there rejoices. Then it began: “He who a compass turned 1716 On the world’s outer verge, and who within it Devised so much occult and manifest, Could not the impress of his power so make On all the universe, as that his Word 1717 Should not remain in infinite excess. And this makes certain that the first proud being, Who was the paragon of every creature, By not awaiting light fell immature. 1718 And hence appears it, that each minor nature 1719 Is scant receptacle unto that good Which has no end, and by itself is measured. In consequence our vision, which perforce Must be some ray of that intelligence With which all things whatever are replete, 1720