Poems (Davidson)/Contemplation of the Heavens
CONTEMPLATION OF THE HEAVENS.
To count the glittering millions of the sky, to marshal them in bright array before us, to mark the brilliant traces of a Creator's presence, the foot-prints of the Deity, is a hallowed and sublime employment of the soul; for being insensibly led onward from gazing upon the portals of heaven, the wonderful threshold of God's wide pavilion, it dares to lift itself in pure and unearthly communion with the Holy Spirit that inhabits there, and to bow in adoration and praise before the great I AM.
To a feeling mind, the heavens unroll a vast volume, filled with subjects of wonder, love, and praise,—wonder, at the inconceivable majesty and goodness of the great Creator of so vast, so splendid a system; love, for his condescension in deigning to bend his attention to so insignificant a creature as man, even in the meridian of his earthly glory; and praise for his unchangeable benevolence, infinite wisdom, and perfection. What hand but that of a God could have formed the wide solar system above us? what voice but that of Him who created them, could bid the starry millions move on for thousands of ages in one unbroken and unceasing march? The lights of heaven are bright and beautiful, still they are but feeble beams from the everlasting fountain of splendor, or wandering sparks of heaven's dazzling glory. Well indeed might Zoroaster, in the enthusiasm of his heart, worship the fires of heaven as parts of that ineffable and neverdying spirit which animates and lives in all, through all eternity.
In the dark ages of superstition and bigotry, was it strange that he should turn in disgust from the sacrifices of blood, from horrid images, the disgraceful productions of weak bewildered minds, to a fount of pure, unchanging, living light; to the brilliant fires above him, holding their unbroken paths through heaven, pointing to God's throne, and whispering to the heart of something still more bright, more beautiful and holy?
