If to conceive how any thing can be
From shape abstracted and locality
Is hard; what think you of the Deity?
His Being not the least relation bears,
As far as to the human mind appears,
To shape, or size, similitude or place,
Cloath'd in no form, and bounded by no space.
Such then is God, a Spirit pure refin'd
From all material dross, and such the human mind.
For in what part of essence can we see
More certain marks of Immortality?
Ev'n from this dark confinement with delight
She looks abroad, and prunes herself for flight;
Like an unwilling inmate longs to roam
From this dull earth, and seek her native home.