The Sun
O radiant globe that lights the morn,
Upon the field thy glory shines!
Thy rays do greet the dew so worn,
With kisses soft, thy gold entwines.
What light hast thou of yesteryear?
What love hast brought from realms unknown?
When skies are blue, and visions clear,
Thy warmth within my heart is sown.
I sit beneath thy watchful gaze,
And feel my cares slip far away;
For in thy essence, bright and blaze,
I find the heart of every day.
- John Davies