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And forms of beauty strange to mortal sight
Glide in and out. Ten thousand mysteries
Hide far in those illimitable dephs;
In awful silence values and mountains sleep
Strewed o'er with relics from an upper world.

But patient Time will lift these buried lands
And clothe them with perennial beauty.

In eons past convulsive throos have raised
The beds of older oceans, till we find
High on the mountain top the shells once hid
Within their bosom. Landscapes gleam, and groves
And gardens wave and bloom and beautify
The smiling earth, and fleecy clouds float round
The summits of fur stretching mountain chains,
All buried once below the rolling wave.

Again in circling years shall these in turn
Bow down their crests and sleep beneath the sea.
All things on earth must change, and change, and change!
Yet through it all is seen a wise design.
The Mighty transformations are so slow,
So gentle is the shifting of the scenes
In Nature's Drama, that the looker on
Is all unconscious of the great unrest.