For thou with light didst penetrate the dark,
Thy footsteps waked “old chaos and dim night.”
Legions of melancholy shapes that wailed
Their being, mourning they should be a blot
Upon the garments of enrobed light,
Their voice a discord when the swelling hymn
In God’s majestic dome rolled through all space,
In silence saw thy foot the barrier press
Of their uncheered vault, with a strong tread,
Itself a light, till downward more and more