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Updated: May 4, 2025
Italy fair, unfortunate Italy looking into the mirror of its ancient glory, heaved with gloomy grief; but the sky of the heaven was as clear and blue above, as it ever was since creation's dawn: and it sung like the bird in a cage placed upon a bough of the blooming orange tree.
W. C. Bryant. "Who can read the history of the past? Who is there who can tell the story of creation's morn? It is not written in history, neither does it live in tradition. There is mystery here, but it is hid by the darkness of bygone ages." "There is a true history here, but we have not learned well the alphabet used.
But the word of Mr Costello was an unwelcome language for him for he nauseated the wretch that seemed to him a cropeared creature of a misshapen gibbosity, born out of wedlock and thrust like a crookback toothed and feet first into the world, which the dint of the surgeon's pliers in his skull lent indeed a colour to, so as to put him in thought of that missing link of creation's chain desiderated by the late ingenious Mr Darwin.
Hot and scratched at least I am glad that in their death-pain they were able to scratch her she still tugs and mauls. I walk on. We reach the meadow. Well, at least to-day we are in time. It has the silence and solitude of the dawn of Creation's first still day, broken only by the sheep that are cropping "The slant grass, and daisies pale."
From Ben's cabin in the flat she had made her first communion with this new world that she had worshipped at first sight. It was as though she had stepped out of an old world into one that was just experiencing the dawn of creation's first morning. At least so it had seemed to her on the morning she had first stepped outside her brother's cabin to view her first sunrise.
When they teach that creation's object and end was man, your theologians and your philosophers reason like the multiped of Versailles or the Tuileries, who believe the humidity of the cellars is made for their special use and that the remainder of the castle is uninhabitable.
Here Philosophy With Plato dwelt, and burst the chains of mind; Here, with his stole across his shoulders flung, His homely garments with a leathern zone Confined, his snowy beard low clust'ring down Upon his ample chest, his keen dark eye Glancing from underneath the arched brow, He fixed his sandaled foot, and on his staff Leaned, while to his disciples he declared How all creation's mighty fabric rose From the abyss of chaos: next he traced The bounds of virtue and of vice; the source Of good and evil; sketched the ideal form Of beauty, and unfolded all the powers Of mind by which it ranges uncontrolled, And soars from earth to immortality.
Thy waters wasted them while they were free, And many a tyrant since; their shores obey The stranger, slave, or savage; their decay Has dried up realms to deserts: not so thou; Unchangeable, save to thy wild waves play, Time writes no wrinkle on thine azure brow; Such as creation's dawn beheld, thou rollest now.
That man was the servant of all; therefore, to regard any honest service as degrading would be, she saw, to deny Christ, to call the life of creation's hero a disgrace. Nor was he the first servant; he did not of himself choose his life; the Father gave it him to live sent him to be a servant, because he, the Father, is the first and greatest servant of all.
In the cool shadows by the great spring a magic mirror in whose pellucid depths are reflected heaven's imperial concave and Eden's virgin splendors God walks familiar with Adam as with a younger brother, explains to him the use and beauty of all that is, and spreads before his wondering eyes Creation's mighty plan.
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