Than our own Dian, the fair queen of night.
Another, and another we descry,

Though far away, yet beaming, radiant stars;
The outermost a triple glory shows,
Like knight, in splendid panoply array'd,
With his attendant pages of young growth.

LXI.

Now, though we may not visit this bright orb
More closely, we, at least, may seek to know
The habitants, and nature of those globes
That roll at humbler distance round their sire,
Who, though diminishing as we withdraw,
Still shows a disc magnificently great

And glorious, far beyond our own day star,
To which we must, ere long, make swift return.

LXII.

Farewell! resplendent heav'n of heav'ns! farewell,
Till mortal nature's debt is paid; and then
Th' unfettered spirit, leaving its frail clay,
May be permitted (whisp'ring Hope doth tell)
Through thy bright regions freely to career;
And, in communion sweet, may share the joy
Of the blest beings that inhabit thee,
And "farewell" no more break upon our ear,
Like the distressful billow o'er a wreck.

LXIII.

Turning our course from that pure source of light,
Let us pursue our solitary way;
Comparatively dark, our humbled flight

From that most gorgeous-most divine display Of heav'nly power! where th' enraptur'd sight, Fainting in ecstacy, sustains the ray

No longer, but with splendour's charms opprest,
The weary, o'erfraught spirit sinks to rest.

LXIV.

Thy nature, Byron, freed from earth's alloy,
May well endure the glory here display'd;
But canst thou wonder that the mortal sense
Should prove too weak for such bright scenes as these?
Absorb'd awhile in slumber's deep repose,

Methought we yet were gliding smoothly on
To greater distance from those brilliant gems
Of heav'nly lustre, which again I see
On either hand, of beauteous teint intense;
Above-below-in front-and far behind,
The brilliant white orb we so late have left!

LXV.

At more convenient distance we now view
Their several hues of glory yet unknown.
And here, behold! not self illuminate,
Approaches one of the great globes that roll
In ceaseless orbit round that white-rob'd heav'n
Which we may not explore. But here, at least,
A world is, so far, to our nature 'kin,
That unrestricted we may boldly claim
To rest awhile, as weary stranger guests.

LXVI.

Softly descending through the perfum'd air
That clothes this glorious ball, the wide-spread fields

Seem fast approaching, and the radiant clouds

Partly conceal the surface from our sight,

Which yet can penetrate enough to scan

LXVII.

The varied landscape's richly verdant glow,
Where hill and dale, thick forest, and fair glebe,
Succeed in beauteous order, and the streams,
Like silver veins, pervade the fertile scene.
What happier spot than this for our research?
Descend we on yon mountain's flow'ry crest,

Which seems in love to kiss the azure sky,1

And thence contemplate what we more would know.

LXVIII.

Here what new wonders meet the astonish'd gaze

These triple and quintuple systems shine

Alternately upon the happy worlds

That roll around in one eternal day.2

"New 'lighted on a heav'n kissing hill."-Hamlet, Act iii, sc. 4.

!

2 This is no poetical fiction; the binary systems are very numerous in the heavens. Above 600 pairs of stars are known to revolve within each other's attraction. Some of these are white pairs, of equal or different intensity; others are white, with a blue, yellow, red, or green companion. Struve gives the following lists:

Pairs of the same colour and intensity
but different intensity.
Pairs of totally different colours

Pairs of a blue with a white principal star.

375

101

120-596

53

52

52

light yellow
yellow or red
green

16-173

Single stars of a red colour as deep as blood are common; but no single star of a blue, green, or violet colour, has yet been found, though they occur in the binary and tertiary systems. There are also quadruple and quintuple combinations, in which the stars composing them are of different colours. See Milner's "Gallery of Nature, p. 177.

Sir John Herschel remarks" It may be more easily suggested in words than conceived, what variety of illumination two suns-a red and a green, or a yellow and a blue one-must afford to a planet circulating about either; and what charming contrasts and grateful vicissitudes-a red day and a green one, for instance, alternating with a white one and with darkness-might arise from the presence or absence of one or other, or both above the horizon." A quintuple system is supposed in the poem, with the planet revolving round the white sun, which is here the principal and much the largest. The beautiful phenomena which must result from such a combination, to a planet thus revolving, at different periods of its revolution, when one or more of the coloured suns are near a conjunction or opposition with, or to, the white one, can scarcely be conceived. One, two, or three of the coloured suns might be above the horizon, at different altitudes, either

Ere one bright golden orb hath ceas'd to shed
His vivid beams athwart the ambient air,
Another and more distant sun appears
In the far east, mingling his sapphire light
To soften down the ardent solar blaze
Of yellow glory to a soothing green.

LXIX.

But while these two thus mingle their pure teints,
High in mid heav'n there gleams a distant star,
Like a rich emerald, more deeply bright,
Claiming triumphantly that hue his own.
Thence rolling on, the yellow glory sinks,
And the deep emerald, glitt'ring in the west,
Yields in his turn to the bright sapphire's reign,
That now becomes sole monarch of the sky,
In lieu of moonlight, shedding his soft beams
Superbly brilliant through the daylight night!

LXX.

Another change comes o'er th' enchanting scene:
By slow degrees a lovely purple hue,

Deep, and more deep, o'erspreads the starry heav'ns,
Till, in the east, a ruby teint appears-

The mid heav'n amethyst, and sapphire west,
Each in their turn retire. The blue orb sinks
Beyond the western sea, while rosy beams
Shoot up their columns through the eastern sky,
To herald in the ruby colour'd sun,

That now in splendid majesty doth glow,
Gilding the wondrous scene with living fire.

in the presence or absence of the white sun round which our planet is revolving, with the variety of illumination constantly changing. Very little darkness could occur in such a system. The quintuple system, situated in the great Nebula of Orion's sword, is here imagined.

LXXI.

Awhile the rubied world thus seems to burn; And, but for distance, the fierce ray might be Intolerable to the aching sight,

E'en of the beings that inhabit here.

Not so, however, for the Great Unknown
Ne'er lacks the power to form, and to adapt
The organs of all creatures to the place
Appointed for their period of life.

LXXII.

Nor does divine benevolence stop here;
A pleasurable feeling all possess,

That makes each one content with what he is,
Leaving no wishes, for capricious change,
To take another's nature for his own.
Now the red rays decline; the rubied sun
Slowly descends behind yon purple cloud,
Whose borders, 'broider'd by the sanguine ray,
Refract the glorious teint, and would prolong
Its reign, enamoured of the vivid gleam.

LXXIII.

But, paler still the sky, till in the east
Streams up the pure white beam zodiacal,
Which here in elongated cone appears,
T' invade the red hue that till now prevail'd.
Each moment brightens the advancing light,
Till, in majestic state, the parent orb
Reveals his glory to the gladden'd world;
Whose beauteous inhabitants come forth
To hail the morning advent of their God.

LXXIV.

Myriads outpour to worship in the ray
That gives new life to nature's splendid scenes