All we see are but a cluster.

Could we get to Bootes, we would be no nearer Oro, than now he hath no place; but is here.

Already, in its unimaginable roamings, our system may have dragged us through and through the spaces, where we plant cities of beryl and jasper.

Even now, we may be inhaling the ether, which we fancy seraphic wings are fanning.

But look round.