What tho' th' Almighty's regal throne be rais'd
High o'er yon azure Heaven's exalted dome
By mortal eye unkenn'd — where East nor West
Nor South, nor blustering North has breath to blow;
Albeit He there with Angels, and with Saints
Hold conference, and to his radiant host
Ev'n face to face stand visibly confest:
Yet know that nor in Presence or in Power
Shines He less perfect here; 'tis Man's dim eye
That makes th' obscurity. He is the same,
Alike in all his Universe the same.