 | Mansoul or The Riddle of the World |  |
Fell ceaseless rains, on molten Earths chilled Round,
Conglobed; and rivers ran down, from all heights;
And became meres, and those to seas increased.
Whose storm-beat boisterous surges, lifted up;
Whelmed on first Lava-cliffs, in cataracts:
And thereto Her great streaming water-courses;
Gnawed much warp forth, in Morning of the World:
Warp, that in countless æons, layed layer on layer;
Was spread mile-deep, on Seas abysmal ground:
Where ages sith, hath hardened it to stone.
Conglobed; and rivers ran down, from all heights;
And became meres, and those to seas increased.
Whose storm-beat boisterous surges, lifted up;
Whelmed on first Lava-cliffs, in cataracts:
And thereto Her great streaming water-courses;
Gnawed much warp forth, in Morning of the World:
Warp, that in countless æons, layed layer on layer;
Was spread mile-deep, on Seas abysmal ground:
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| Mansoul or The Riddle of the World | |