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.

See the gold sunshine patching,
And streaming and streaking across
The gray-green oaks; and catching,
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See the gold sunshine patching,
And streaming and streaking across
The gray-green oaks; and catching,
By its soft brown beard, the moss.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Pleasantly, between the pelting showers, the sunshine gushes
down.

Pleasantly, between the pelting showers, the sunshine gushes
down.

The gay motes that people the sunbeams.

The gay motes that people the sunbeams.