For ever singing as they shine,

The hand that made us is divine.

Joseph Addison (1672-1719): Ode.

No radiant pearl which crested Fortune wears,

No gem that twinkling hangs from Beauty's ears,

Not the bright stars which Night's blue arch adorn,

Nor rising suns that gild the vernal morn,

Shine with such lustre as the tear that flows

Down Virtue's manly cheek for others' woes.

Erasmus Darwin (1731-1802): The Botanic Garden. Part ii. Canto iii. Line 459.