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 sun, too, shines into cesspools, and is not polluted.

The sun, too, shines into cesspools, and is not polluted.

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

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

Out of the solar walk and Heaven's highway.

Out of the solar walk and Heaven's highway.

The gay motes that people the sunbeams.

The gay motes that people the sunbeams.

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.

See the sun!
God's crest upon His azure shield, the Heavens.

See the sun!
God's crest upon His azure shield, the Heavens.

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.

The glorious lamp of heaven, the radiant sun,
Is Nature's eye.

The glorious lamp of heaven, the radiant sun,
Is Nature's eye.