Ah, the infinite dark space
Strewn with myriad floating pebbles
Of sparkling lights and twinkling fires
Of which the Eternal declared: "They are mine."
Take off your hands, O man.
For no flesh and blood
Ever shall have dominion over them
And on these wastelands,
Neither any heathen
Shall stake his nation's flag,
Nor any mortal shall renew them
And bring forth clouds
And balmy air and rains of life.
For these are the hosts of glittering mansions
Pledged to the seeds of the Highest,
The vast estate set apart for
His righteous heirs, His holy gods.