“THEE, peerless monarch of the sky, My soul aspires to glorify, And, swelling with immortal verse, Immortal wonders to rehearse. Through thee the tide of praise is roll’d ; The seraphs strike their chords of gold, And wake the anthem, soaring high With lnspiration’s ecstasy; Whilst angels, quicken’d by thy glance, Circle the throne in mystick dance. Through thee the seasons ’gan to roll, Exulting in their Lord’s control: At thy command the HeaVen’s expansion Became the golden stars’ fair mansion; Flamed high the sun in glory bright; Look’d forth the moon with softer light ; And, born Jehovah’s works to scan, Uprose Creation’s wonder, Man, Uniting in his complex form Mild reason’s calm, and passion’s storm.”  St. Gregory Nazianzen, Hymn to the Deity.  (Translated from Greek by Hugh Stuart Boyd, in his published work “SELECT PASSAGES OF THE WRITINGS OF ST. CHRYSOSTOM, ST. GREGORY NAZIANZEN, AND ST. BASIL.”, pg. 299, pub. 1813)