I Then Up The Orient Heights To The Zenith, That Balanced The Crescent,-- Up And Far Up And Over,--The Heaven Grew Erubescent, Vibrant With Rose And With Ruby From The Hands Of The Harpist Dawn, Smiting Symphonic Fire On The Firmament'S Barbiton: And The East Was A Priest Who Adored With Offerings Of Gold And Of Gems, And A Wonderful Carpet Unrolled For The Inaccessible Hems Of The Glistening Robes Of Her Limbs; That, Lily And Amethyst, Swept Glorying On And On Through Temples Of Cloud And Mist. Ii Then Out Of The Splendor And Richness, That Burned Like A Magic Stone, The Torrent Suffusion That Deepened And Dazzled And Broadened And Shone, The Pomp And The Pageant Of Color, Triumphal Procession Of Glare, The Sun, Like A King In Armor, Breathing Splendor From Feet To Hair, Stood Forth With Majesty Girdled, As A Hero Who Towers Afar Where The Bannered Gates Are Bristling Hells And The Walls Are Roaring War: And Broad On The Back Of The World, Like A Cherubin'S Fiery Blade, The Effulgent Gaze Of His Aspect Fell In Glittering Accolade. Iii Then Billowing Blue, Like An Ocean, Rolled From The Shores Of Morn To Even: And The Stars, Like Rafts, Went Down: And The Moon, Like A Ghost-Ship, Driven, A Feather Of Foam, From Port To Port Of The Cloud-Built Isles That Dotted, With Pearl And Cameo, Bays Of The Day, Her Canvas Webbed And Rotted, Lay Lost In The Gulf Of Heaven: While Over Her Mixed And Melted The Beautiful Children Of Morn, Whose Bodies Are Opal-Belted; The Beautiful Daughters Of Dawn, Who, Over And Under, And After The Rivered Radiance, Wrestled; And Rainbowed Heaven With Laughter Of Halcyon Sapphire.--O Dawn! Thou Visible Mirth, And Hallelujah Of Heaven! Hosanna Of Earth!