Genesis I. 2. Poem by Mary Anne Browne

No light—no form—no order—yet a power
Is o'er the shapeless mass, impalpable,
Unseen, omnipotent.??No day or hour
The endless roll of those dark waters tell.
Eternity, that hath no bound, and yet
Lies round all time—a wall supremely strong
Hath with the chaos met;
And as its silent torrents sweep along,
The spirit broods above the darksome deep,
That 'neath its veil the germs of worlds doth keep.

Yet from this void, that ever-resting Spirit
Shall bring at once an 'universe-of things;'
And living forms, and souls that shall inherit
Immortal being from its deathless springs:
There shall be mighty hills, and flowery plains,
And waving forests, and rejoicing streams,
And birds with mirthful strains,
Flitting through sunny skies like passing dreams.
'Let there be light,' that Spirit shall but say,
And wide shall burst the fountain gates of day.
Our minds are as the chaos — thoughts, and feelings,
And passions mingle in one nameless flood;
Oh help us, then, Almighty! with revealings
From thine own realm of holiness and good.

O'er the dark waters of our spirits move,
And bring from this strange waste of care and sin
A world of peace and love,
Peopled with holy thoughts, to dwell within;
A world, where as a refuge we may flee,
Until we may possess 'the better land' with Thee.