dark beyond reaching,
Truthfully knowing aright, in my name bid Prodicus pack with his preaching.

It was Chaos and Night at the first, and the blackness of darkness, and
hell's broad border,
Earth was not, nor air, neither heaven; when in depths of the womb of the
dark without order
First thing first-born of the black-plumed Night was a wind-egg hatched
in her bosom,
Whence timely with seasons revolving again sweet Love burst out as a
blossom,
Gold wings glittering forth of his back, like whirlwinds gustily turning.
He, after his wedlock with Chaos, whose wings are of darkness, in hell
broad-burning,
For his nestlings begat him the race of us first, and upraised us to
light new-lighted.
And before this was not the race of the gods, until all things by Love
were united;
And of kind united with kind in communion of nature the sky and the sea
are
Brought forth, and the earth, and the race of the gods everlasting and
blest. So that we are
Far away the most ancient of all things blest. And that we are of Love's
generation
There are manifest manifold signs. We have wings, and with us have the
Loves habitation;
And manifold fair young folk that forswore love once, ere the bloom of
them ended,
Have the men that pursued and desired them subdued, by the help of us
only befriended,