What it would mean for you and me

If dawn should come no more!

Think of its gold along the sea,

Its rose above the shore!

That rose of awful mystery,

Our souls bow down before.

What wonder that the Inca kneeled,

The Aztec prayed and pled

And sacrificed to it, and sealed,

With rites that long are dead,

The marvels that it once revealed

To them it comforted!

What wonder, yea! what awe, behold!

What rapture and what tears

Were ours, if wild its rivered gold—

That now each day appears—

Burst on the world, in darkness rolled,

Once every thousand years!

Think what it means to me and you

To see it even as God

Evolved it when the world was new!

When Light rose, earthquake shod,

And slow its gradual splendor grew

O’er deeps the whirlwind trod.

What shoutings then and cymbalings

Arose from depth and height!

What worship-solemn trumpetings,

And thunders, burning white,

Of winds and waves, and anthemings

Of Earth received the Light!

Think what it means to see the dawn!

The dawn, that comes each day!

What if the East should ne’er grow wan,

Should never more grow gray!

That line of rose no more be drawn

Above the ocean’s spray!