And looks commercing with the skies,Thy rapt soul sitting in thine eyes.

Earth felt the wound,and Nature from her seat Sighing through all her Worksgave signs of woe,That all was lost.

Thee, Sion, and the flowery brooks beneath, That wash thy hallowed feet and warbling flow, Nightly I visit.

But now at last the sacred influenceOf light appears, and rom the walls of Heav'nShoots far into the bosom of dim NightA glimmering dawn; here Nature first begins her farthest verge, and Chaos to retireAs from her outmost works a broken foeWith tumult less and with less hostile din,

As an engineer, I feel it's at a point we should be concerned, ... We're taking risks already. I don't like relying on nature not to do something.

In contemplation of created things, by steps we may ascend to God.

And live like Nature's bastards, not her sons.