Hymn to the Sun

Giver of glowing light!

Though but a god of other days,

The kings and sages
Of wiser ages

Still live and gladden in thy genial rays!

King of the tuneful lyre,

Still poets' hymns to thee belong;

Though lips are cold
Whereon of old

Thy beams all turn'd to worshipping and song!

Lord of the dreadful bow,

None triumph now for Python's death;

But thou dost save
From hungry grave

The life that hangs upon a summer breath.

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.

God of the Delphic fame,

No more thou listenest to hymns sublime;

But they will leave
On winds at eve,

A solemn echo to the end of time.