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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.
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.
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.
Thou shalt come out of a warme Sunne into God's blessing.
Thou shalt come out of a warme Sunne into God's blessing.
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.
See the gold sunshine patching,
And streaming and streaking across
The gray-green oaks; and catching,
read more
See the gold sunshine patching,
And streaming and streaking across
The gray-green oaks; and catching,
By its soft brown beard, the moss.
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.
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.
