Ye golden lamps of heaven, farewell!
With your light, you often tell
Each breeze your voice, each wave your song,
As nature’s children come along.
Your fires at twilight fade away,
In the night’s cool curtain sway,
Yet still I see you in the day!

For in woods that shadow lie,
Where moss and dew like laughter sigh;
My heart leaps up at every brook,
In the fields, the flowers took
Their colors pure as truth divine,
And break your golden lamps, and shine!

• Sir Philip Sidney