CHORUS OF SPIRITS
  We join the throng
  Of the dance and the song,
  By the whirlwind of gladness borne along;
  As the flying-fish leap
  From the Indian deep
  And mix with the sea-birds half-asleep.

CHORUS OF HOURS
  Whence come ye, so wild and so fleet,
  For sandals of lightning are on your feet,
  And your wings are soft and swift as thought,
  And your eyes are as love which is veilèd not?

CHORUS OF SPIRITS
  We come from the mind
  Of human kind,
  Which was late so dusk, and obscene, and blind;
  Now 't is an ocean
  Of clear emotion,
  A heaven of serene and mighty motion.