Then there was neither Aught nor Nought, no air nor sky beyond.
What covered all? Where rested all? In watery gulf profound?
Nor death was then, nor deathlessness, nor change of night and day.
That One breathed calmly, self-sustained; nought else beyond it lay.
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song of Creation is a great poem, no doubt in it... Whence sprang this world, and whether framed by hand divine or no- Its lord in heaven alone can tell, if even he can show.