Ode -- by Joseph Addison (1672 - 1719)

THE spacious firmament on high,
With all the blue ethereal sky,
And spangled heavens, a shining frame,
Their great Original proclaim.
Th' unwearied Sun from day to day	5
Does his Creator's power display;
And publishes to every land
The work of an Almighty hand.
Soon as the evening shades prevail,
The Moon takes up the wondrous tale;	10
And nightly to the listening Earth
Repeats the story of her birth:
Whilst all the stars that round her burn,
And all the planets in their turn,
Confirm the tidings as they roll,	15
And spread the truth from pole to pole.
What though in solemn silence all
Move round the dark terrestrial ball;
What though nor real voice nor sound
Amidst their radiant orbs be found?	20
In Reason's ear they all rejoice,
And utter forth a glorious voice;
For ever singing as they shine,
'The Hand that made us is divine.' A thinking person could be a believer in those days, you may say. Not so easy nowadays, you may say. Think again. It's always been hard. It's a choice, a choice of how one will interface with the sense data coming in from the world, and it has consequences attached, one of them being that you will have much more trouble ignoring misdeeds committed around you if you choose the theistic view. And there are lots of more difficult perquisites attached to the theistic choice. But, then, there are uplifting moments as well. See not trees, but trees against the sky ...the figure and the background ...yang and yin. Hear haiku in the voices in the cafe. Pull on clean cotton socks and pause in the sensation for seconds at a time. There are uplifting moments.