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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.
High in his chariot glow'd the lamp of day.
High in his chariot glow'd the lamp of day.
Behold him setting in his western skies,
The shadows lengthening as the vapours rise.
Behold him setting in his western skies,
The shadows lengthening as the vapours rise.
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.
The sun shineth upon the dunghill and is not corrupted.
The sun shineth upon the dunghill and is not corrupted.
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 gay motes that people the sunbeams.
The gay motes that people the sunbeams.
