On mountain tops by the wind-spirits hurled,
Blinding and blind, the sparks of spirit curled
Each to its proper soul; the wide wheels flow,
Orderly streams, and lose the rushing speed,
Meet, mingle, marry. Fire and air express
Their dews and winds of molten loveliness,
Fine flakes of arrowy light, the dawn’s first deed.
Metallic showers and smoke self-glittering
For many an aeon. Wild the pennons spring
Of streaming flame! Then, surging from the tide,