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Updated: May 4, 2025
'Tis truly said: The overwise themselves hoodwink, For simple eyesight is a modest thing: They on the black abysm's brink Smile, and but when they fall bitterly think, What difference 'twixt the fool and me, Creation's King?
Still seem, as to my childhood's sight, A midway station given, For happy spirits to alight, Betwixt the earth and heaven. Can all that optics teach, unfold Thy form to please me so, As when I dreamt of gems and gold Hid in thy radiant bow? When science from creation's face Enchantment's veil withdraws, What lovely visions yield their place To cold material laws!
Nature herself, in sea and air and woodland, produces exquisite loveliness, and yet even her achievements are dwarfed when one stands face to face with one of creation's masterpieces a woman." And Mr. Early made a ponderous bow as he presented his work of art.
One day, out of the millions of women he blackens, one did prefer some other man to him: for which solitary piece of bad taste, and ten to one 'twas good taste, he doth bespatter creation's fairer half, thereby proving what? le peu que sont les hommes." "I see women have a shrewd champion in thee," said Gerard, with a smile.
In the vast epic of the Cosmos, evoked when the "Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters" an epic printed in stars on blue abysses of illimitable space; in illuminated type of rose leaf, primrose petal, scarlet berry on the great greenery of field and forest; in the rainbows that glow on tropical humming birds, on Himalayan pheasants, on dying dolphins in purple seas; and in all the riotous carnival of color on Nature's palette, from shifting glory of summer clouds, to the steady fires of red autumn skies we find no blot, no break, no blurred abortive passages, until man stepped into creation's story.
It seemed a queer simile, as she thought of him in his conventional evening clothes, correct in every line, well-groomed, smart almost to a fault. But out on the terrace with him she had realised, for the first time, the primal elements which go to the making of a man a forceful determined, ruling man creation's king. They echo of primeval forests.
God's fiat on creation's day has figured in traditional philosophy as such an absolute cause and origin. Against this notion of the unity of origin of all there has always stood the pluralistic notion of an eternal self-existing many in the shape of atoms or even of spiritual units of some sort.
Nothing but a combination of motives, more peremptory than the coal on the turtle's back, could have got me to leave the shelter of my carapace; and after memorable interviews, and kindest hospitalities, and grand sights, and huge influx of patriotic pride, for every American owns all America, "Creation's heir, the world, the world is"
Mortal, listen: I was born In Creation's early years, Singing, 'mid the stars of morn, To the music of the spheres. Once as, within the realms of space, I view'd this mortal planet roll, A yearning towards they hapless race, Unbidden, filled my seraph soul!
Behold this wondrous edifice, Both heaven and earth comprising, The universe and all that is At God's command arising This world, with ramparts wide from pole to pole, Down from its starry, brilliant dome, E'en to the depths where angry billows roll, And beasts that through the forest roam All things that sea and sky afford, Thy faithful subjects eke to be; A lesser heaven, a home for thee Oh! man, creation's lord.
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