And e’en the hills, whose tops appear to shroud
Their granite peaks deep in the vapoury cloud,
Worn by tempests—wasted by the rains,
Sink slowly down to fill wide ocean’s plains.
The ocean’s breast new lands again display,
And life and beauty drink the light of day:
The powers which work at great creation’s wheel,
Will from the wrecks of matter still reveal
New forms of wondrous beauty—which will rise
Pure as the flame of love’s young sacrifice,