Gabriel.
The gorgeous Earth doth whirl for aye
In swift, sublime, mysterious flight,
And alternates elysian day
With deep, chaotic, shuddering night;
With swelling billows foams the sea.
Chafing the cliff's deep-rooted base,
While sea and cliff both hurrying flee
In swift, eternal, circling race.
Michael.
And howling tempests scour amain
From sea to land, from land to sea,
And, raging, weave around a chain
Of deepest, wildest energy;
The scathing bolt with flashing glare
Precedes the pealing thunder's way;
And yet Thine Angels, Lord, revere
The gentle movement of Thy day.
Trio.
With strength the sight doth Angels fill,
For power to fathom thee hath none.
The works of Thy supernal will
Still glorious shine, as erst they shone.