In utmost solitude, in uttermost peace,
The heavenly Lord, ere heavens arose,
Bethought a work, that His solitude cease-
In the pre-dawn hour, their order He chose.
Conceiving of time, conceiving of space,
A stage upon which the drama began,
From nothing, He set the world in its’ place,
Heaven and earth both fused in His hand.
But formless and void, before Him they lay,
As by storm, the waves of the darkness leap –
Not a work, yet a start; ne’er meant to stay,
The Spirit, chaos’ lord, viewed the face of the deep.
Hear now the six days of our Lord’s labor –
The first three form, the last three filled.
Graced with great blessings, our holy God’s favor;
And the seventh day’s rest, so He has willed.
