I desire: and their speed makes night kindle; Ere the cloud piled on Atlas can dwindle On the brink of the night and the morning HYMN TO THE SUN NCE again thou flamest heavenward, once Every morning is thy birthday gladdening human hearts and eyes. Every morning here we greet it, bowing lowly down before thee, Thee the Godlike, thee the changeless in thine ever-changing skies. Shadow-maker, shadow-slayer, arrowing light from clime to clime, Hear thy myriad laureates hail thee monarch in their woodland rhyme. Warble bird, and open flower, and, men, below the dome of azure Kneel adoring Him the Timeless in the flame that measures Time! Alfred, Lord Tennyson TE HYMN OF APOLLO I HE sleepless Hours who watch me as I lie, Curtained with star-inwoven tapestries, From the broad moonlight of the sky, Fanning the busy dreams from my dim eyes,— Waken me when their Mother, the gray Dawn, Tells them that dreams and that the moon is gone. II Then I arise, and climbing Heaven's blue dome, I walk over the mountains and the waves, Leaving my robe upon the ocean foam; My footsteps pave the clouds with fire; the caves Are filled with my bright presence, and the air Leaves the green earth to my embraces bare. III The sunbeams are my shafts, with which I kill Deceit, that loves the night and fears the day; All men who do or even imagine ill Fly me, and from the glory of my ray Good minds and open actions take new might, Until diminished by the reign of night. IV I feed the clouds, the rainbows and the flowers With their ethereal colors; the Moon's globe And the pure stars in their eternal bowers Are cinctured with my power as with a robe; Whatever lamps on Earth or Heaven may shine, Are portions of one power, which is mine. V I stand at noon upon the peak of Heaven, For grief that I depart they weep and frown: VI I am the eye with which the Universe All prophecy, all medicine are mine, A MORNING HE glad, mad wind went singing by, THE The white clouds drove athwart the blue, Bold beauty of the morning sky And all the world was sun and dew, And sweet cold air with sudden glints of gold Like spilled stars glowing in the cedars' hold. I laughed for very joy of life, Oh, thrilling veins, oh, happy heart, Rejoice! Rejoice! that miracle of birth |