When He had finished, first his orbèd sun
Blazed through the startled firmament, and all
His hosts cried glory, and the stars each one
Sang joy together,— then did there not fall
A peace of solemn silence on His world,
A moment’ s hush before one leaf was stirred
Or one wave o’ er the ocean mirror curled!
Lo! then it was the carol of a bird
Gave the joy-note of being, up the sky
Some lark’ s song mounted and the young greenwood
Woke to a matin of wild melody,—
And He looked down and saw that it was good.