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In climes beyond the solar road.
In climes beyond the solar road.
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.
The sun, too, shines into cesspools, and is not polluted.
The sun, too, shines into cesspools, and is not polluted.
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.
High in his chariot glow'd the lamp of day.
High in his chariot glow'd the lamp of day.
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.
Out of the solar walk and Heaven's highway.
Out of the solar walk and Heaven's highway.
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.
