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.

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.

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.

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.

Thou shalt come out of a warme Sunne into God's blessing.

Thou shalt come out of a warme Sunne into God's blessing.

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.

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 gay motes that people the sunbeams.

The gay motes that people the sunbeams.