IX.

"And this it is which keeps our earth here going With all the stars."--"O, vile! but there's a place Prepared for such; to think of Brahma throwing Worlds like a juggler's balls up into Space! Why, not so much as a smooth lotos blowing Is e'er allowed that silence to efface Which broods around Brahma, and our earth, 'tis known, Rests on a tortoise, moveless as this stone."