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Father of rosy day,
No more thy clouds of incense rise;
But waking flow'rs,
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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.
The sun shineth upon the dunghill and is not corrupted.
The sun shineth upon the dunghill and is not corrupted.
The sun, too, shines into cesspools, and is not polluted.
The sun, too, shines into cesspools, and is not polluted.
In climes beyond the solar road.
In climes beyond the solar road.
The great duties of life are written with a sunbeam.
The great duties of life are written with a sunbeam.
Thou shalt sleep in thy clouds, careless of the voice of the
morning.
Thou shalt sleep in thy clouds, careless of the voice of the
morning.
The sun, which passeth through pollutions and itself remains as
pure as before.
The sun, which passeth through pollutions and itself remains as
pure as before.
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.
Make hay while the sun shines.
Make hay while the sun shines.
