When the Gods were asleep in a realm of rest, half-buried ’twixt Light and Shade;
A Spirit arose on the vasty air.—a glorious Spirit of fire,—
A wingèd Marvel, whose eyes were bright with the flame of a new desire;
Crown’d with a thousand stars he stood in a halo of burning beams,
And lifting his passionate voice he roused the Gods from their idle dreams.
Up they started, those massive Shapes, and with swift creative hands,
They parted the darkness, let loose the light, and fashioned the seas and lands;
Great forests sprang from the teeming soil, with grasses and glory-flowers,
And minutes were made of jewel-points that glittered into Hours;
Out whirled the planets like silver ships in the sapphire depths of Heaven