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Could we with ink the ocean fill, And were the heavens of parchment made, Were every stalk on earth a quill, And every man a scribe by trade; To write the love of God above, Would drain the ocean dry; Nor could the scroll contain the whole, Though stretch'd from sky to sky. - Chaldee Ode, trans. from Jewish, sung during the service of the first day of the Feast of the Pentecost [God]
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