Life in Bath; 1772-1782

"The Star that from the zenith darts its beams,Visible though it be to half the earth,Though half a sphere be conscious of its brightness,Is yet of no diviner origin,No purer essence, than the One that burnsLike an untended watchfire, on the ridgeOf some dark mountain; or than those that seemHumbly to hang, like twinkling winter lamps,Among the branches of the leafless trees."