At whose sight all the stars / Hide their diminished heads.

We see things not as they are but as we are.

If you gaze long into an abyss, the abyss will gaze back into you.

Then purg'd with euphrasy and rue The visual nerve, for he had much to see.

A broad and ample road, whose dust is gold,
And pavement stars—as starts to thee appear
Soon in the galaxy, that milky way
Which mightly as a circling zone thou seest
Powder'd wiht stars.

Oft he seems to hide his face, / But unexpectedly returns / And to his faithful champion hath in place / Bore witness gloriously.