The Sun
O mighty orb, whose rays of gold,
Are scattered wide as they unfold;
Thy chariot wheels are crowned with light,
And day is kissed by thee, O bright.
The hills in amber hue are dressed,
As shadows lengthen in the west;
Thy laughter fills the air with cheer,
While nature’s beauty sings sincere.
Awake, ye valleys! rise and sing,
In endless praise to him we bring;
For in thy warmth and glow we find,
The sacred bond with all mankind.
- Hartley Coleridge