That while the waste of waters yet girt the new earth round,
Blooming out beneath the whisper of the great Almighty Power,
On the gloomy flood there floated, one lonely lotus-flower.
And within its crystal chalice, a frail, but heaven-blest shrine,
Was placed a spirit gifted with creative power divine,
Its celestial radiance making that lily-temple bright,
And through its pure leaves shedding on the wave a halo-light.
Filled with yearning was the spirit, dimly conscious of its power,
Feeling, yet not comprehending, all its grand and god-like dower;
Glowing with the joy and beauty of a soft supernal fire,