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.