Filling the night with loveliness. Not one,
Of all your myriads, but reveals a tale
Of ages so remote and vast, they seem
As an eternity to short-lived man.
Thus calmly shone ye when the formless deep
Heaved with the birth-throes of this present world,
And mountain summits forced their jagged heads
Through the dark surges of the boiling main.
Slow spread the continents beneath your light
In fearful desolation. Turbid flowed