  When Aurora springs from her couch of clouds And opens the gate of a perfect day, And her brother Sol in his daily rounds Advances his steeds toward Polaris' ray, Then the vernal bloom and the warbling bird That follow his track as he speeds along, Send their fragrance pure on the morning air, And fill leafy groves with ecstatic song. Oceanus lends invisible bowls, Well filled with vapors that rise from his breast, Eurus is summoned to waft them afar And scatter abroad in the distant west, Where Sol with his brush and an artist's touch, Paints on the sky all the glories of heaven, In colors more bright and blendings more true, Than ever on canvas by mortal was given. One sunset scene in Hesperian sky, When the courts of heaven are all ablaze With the glorious tints and pageantry That to mortal mind so clearly portrays The mighty power of omnipotent hand, And the tender touch of a boundless love, Is an omen true—infallible proof Of a Deity who presides above. |
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