Nurst in that Eden of an earlier day.
Thence wandering on the morn of thy awakening,
Like a Dream-vision through the world didst go,
Filling its darkness with bright things, and making
The wild waste blossom, and the desert glow.
Still o’er the Earth, thy shining foot-prints tarry,
Upon the mountain-tops thy step yet strays;
Through the rich woods thy rainbow plume floats airy,
And on the sea thy form of glory plays!
Thy purple pinions fan the brow of morning;