The forces that guide the waters no vacuum can abide;
They rush, they join, they link their threads in a foaming tide,
And down they hurry and hasten the spent pool to re-fill.
Empty the sphere of glass, exhaust its last spent air,
Seal it and make it sure, and deem your work complete,
Let but a pin pierce through the fabric anywhere,
And the urgent and crowding ether, for all your guarding care,
Will enter and fill the space, and laugh at your swift defeat.
So to the empty chambers of these craving souls of ours
Comes the invisible grace which breathes from the Lord of heaven,