From Dust I rise

And out of Nothing now awake;

These brighter regions which salute mine Eys

A Gift from God I take:

The Earth, the Seas, The Light, the lofty Skies,

The Sun and Stars are mine; if these I prize.

A stranger here,

Strange things doth meet, strange Glory see,

Strange Treasures lodg’d in this fair World appear

Strange all and New to me:

But that they mine should be who Nothing was,

That Strangest is of all: yet brought to pass.