To the same purpos; he, not long before

Brought home from Nurse, going to the door

To do som little thing

He must not do within,

With Wonder cries,

As in the Skies

He saw the Moon, O yonder is the Moon

Newly com after me to Town,

That shin'd at Lugwardin but yesternight,

Where I enjoy'd the self-same Light.

As if it had ev'n twenty thousand faces,

It shines at once in many places;

To all the Earth so wide

God doth the Stars divide

With so much Art

The Moon impart,

They serv us all; serv wholy ev'ry One

As if they served him alone.

While evry single Person hath such Store,

'Tis want of Sense that makes us poor.