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.

Father of rosy day,
No more thy clouds of incense rise;
But waking flow'rs,
read more

Father of rosy day,
No more thy clouds of incense rise;
But waking flow'rs,
At morning hours,
Give out their sweets to meet thee in the skies.

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.

She stood breast-high amid the corn,
Clasp'd by the golden light of morn,
Like the sweetheart of read more

She stood breast-high amid the corn,
Clasp'd by the golden light of morn,
Like the sweetheart of the sun,
Who many a glowing kiss had won.

See the sun!
God's crest upon His azure shield, the Heavens.

See the sun!
God's crest upon His azure shield, the Heavens.

Make hay while the sun shines.

Make hay while the sun shines.

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.

Let others hail the rising sun:
I bow to that whose course is run.

Let others hail the rising sun:
I bow to that whose course is run.

High in his chariot glow'd the lamp of day.

High in his chariot glow'd the lamp of day.