Sing thee again, dear lady, of our joy?
Listen, then, listen! For some sombre finger,
Other than mine, impulses on the string.
This tune I knew not! See, the strings are moved
Subtly as if by witchcraft—or by God!
[Sings.
In the Beginning God began,
And saw the Night of Time begin!
Chaos, a speck; and space, a span;
Ruinous cycles fallen in,