When the sun sets, shadows, that showed at noon
But small, appear most long and terrible.

When the sun sets, shadows, that showed at noon
But small, appear most long and terrible.

See the gold sunshine patching,
And streaming and streaking across
The gray-green oaks; and catching,
read more

See the gold sunshine patching,
And streaming and streaking across
The gray-green oaks; and catching,
By its soft brown beard, the moss.

The great duties of life are written with a sunbeam.

The great duties of life are written with a sunbeam.

The sun is new each day.

The sun is new each day.

The sun, centre and sire of light,
The keystone of the world-built arch of heaven.

The sun, centre and sire of light,
The keystone of the world-built arch of heaven.

Such words fall to often on our cold and careless ears with the
triteness of long familiarity; but to read more

Such words fall to often on our cold and careless ears with the
triteness of long familiarity; but to Octavia . . . they seemed
to be written in sunbeams.

The sun shineth upon the dunghill and is not corrupted.

The sun shineth upon the dunghill and is not corrupted.

Whence are thy beams, O sun! thy everlasting light? Thou comest
forth, in thy awful beauty; the stars hide read more

Whence are thy beams, O sun! thy everlasting light? Thou comest
forth, in thy awful beauty; the stars hide themselves in the sky;
the moon, cold and pale, sinks in the western waves. But thou,
thyself, movest alone.

Failing yet gracious,
Slow pacing, soon homing,
A patriarch that strolls
Through the tents read more

Failing yet gracious,
Slow pacing, soon homing,
A patriarch that strolls
Through the tents of his children,
The sun as he journeys
His round on the lower
Ascents of the blue,
Washes the roofs
And the hillsides with clarity.