Classic Poem

Spirit of Light, That o'er the abyss immense,
Primordial chaos, moving hast sweetly wrought,
In that far age trackless to reeling thought,
Order and Beauty; and all mortal sense,
Purged through obedience of the least offence
In our first Parents, didst ordain for naught
Save in Thine own creative joy up-caught
To find its last energy and life intense:

Spirit of Light, here in these latter days,
Dimmed by self-will and deft rebellion's pride,
Oh! leave us not! Thou hast not left us! See,
In this young heart and teeming brain displays
Thy Graciousness its will: Thou yet dost bide
Brooding to turn our errant sight on Thee!