The Sun is God's great joy to Human sight.

Oh, up and off in chariots, Sea! and ride,

All generations, up, till mountain-eyed,

To welcome earth-ward, God's Supreme delight.

Imagination swirls in swallow flight,

Giddy with Beauty, deepening—Oh, how glide

From star to star, to the haloes, season-dyed

And countless! Its wings shrivel up like night.

Oh, yea, the Sun in one subliming rise

From Wisdom's infinite mind! This Reason knows.

It has no set. There, Sense, with weals or woes

For beads, or fingers, count our shuts of eyes,

Excluding Knowledge. What! God's joy to close

And all its goodness break and drift cloud-wise?