He hangs in shades the orange bright, / Like golden lamps in a green night.
Annihilating all that's made, To a green thought in a green shade.
The tawny mowers enter next, / Who seem like Israelites to be / Walking on foot through a green sea.
The mind, that ocean where each kind / Does straight its own resemblance find; / Yet it creates, transcending these, / Far other worlds, and other seas, / Annihilating all that's made / To a green thought in a green shade.