The semi-chaos of the early earth,
The slime, the earthquake shock, the whelming flood,
Made battle ground for the colossal brood.
But now, when centuries of love and light
Have warmed and brightened man's old home; when might
Is not all sinister, nor all desire
Fierce appetite, that all-devouring fire,—
When life is not alone a wasting scourge,
But from the swamps of soulless strife emerge
Some Pisgah peaks of promise where the dove