Judge, then, the size of any inward organ--
What of their sphered heart, their eyes, their limbs,
The skeleton?--How tiny thus they are!
And what besides of those first particles
Whence soul and mind must fashioned be?--Seest not
How nice and how minute? Besides, whatever
Exhales from out its body a sharp smell--
The nauseous absinth, or the panacea,
Strong southernwood, or bitter centaury--
If never so lightly with thy [fingers] twain
Perchance [thou touch] a one of them
*****
Then why not rather know that images
Flit hither and thither, many, in many modes,
Bodiless and invisible?
But lest
Haply thou holdest that those images
Which come from objects are the sole that flit,
Others indeed there be of own accord
Begot, self-formed in earth's aery skies,
Which, moulded to innumerable shapes,
Are borne aloft, and, fluid as they are,
Cease not to change appearance and to turn
Into new outlines of all sorts of forms;
As we behold the clouds grow thick on high