There is nothing of them left, and their voices are dead.

There are dim shapes in the horror of emptiness." "But out of the north ariseth a fair glory with brightness, and the breath of the Lord breatheth life into all things.

The beam of the dawn is risen, and there shall again be times and seasons, and the Being of the majesty of God is made manifest in form.

From the dust of the earth is the earth made again, and of the beams of His glory shall He make new stars." "Send up the voices of praise, O ye things that are; cry out in exultation with mighty music! Praise the Lord in whom is Life, and in whom all things have Being! Praise Him and glorify Him that is risen with the wings of the morning of heaven; in whose breath the stars breathe, in whose brightness also the firmament is lightened! Praise Him who maketh the wheels of the spheres to run their courses; who maketh the flowers to bloom in the spring, and the little flowers of the field to give forth their sweetness! Praise Him, winter and summer; praise Him, cold and heat! Praise Him, stars of heaven; praise Him, men and women in the earth! Praise and glory and honour be unto the Most High Jehovah, who sitteth upon the Throne for ever, and ever, and ever...." The prophet's voice rang out with tremendous force and majestic clearness as he uttered the last words.

Throwing up his arms to their height, he stood one moment longer, immovable, his face radiantly illuminated with an unearthly glory.