SUN.
O give thanks unto the Lord; for He is good:
To Him that made great lights; the sun to rule by day: for His mercy endureth for ever.—Psalm cxxxvi. 1, 7, 8.
The Lord, which giveth the sun for a light by day; the Lord of Hosts is His name.—Jeremiah, xxxi. 35.
He maketh His sun to rise on the evil and on the good.—Matthew, v. 45.
When creatures had no real light
Inherent in them, Thou didst make the sun
Impart a lustre, and allow them bright;
And in this, show what Christ hath done.
George Herbert.
Great source of day! best image here below
Of thy Creator, ever pouring wide
From world to world the vital ocean round.
On nature write with every beam his praise.
The thunder rolls: he hushed the prostrate world;
While cloud to cloud returns the solemn hymn.
Bleat out afresh ye hills, ye mossy rocks
Return the sound; the broad responsive low
Ye valleys raise, for the great shepherd reigns,
And His unsuffering kingdom yet will come.
Thomson.
Look up to Heaven! the industrious sun
Already half his race hath run,
He cannot halt nor go astray,
But our immortal spirits may.
Lord! since his rising in the east,
If we have faltered or transgressed,
Guide, from thy love’s abundant source,
What yet remains of this day’s course.
Help with thy grace through life’s short day
Our upward and our downward way,
And glorify for us the west,
When we shall sink to final rest.
Wordsworth.
As some tall cliff, that lifts its awful form,
Swells from the vale, and midway leaves the storm;
Tho’ round its breast the rolling clouds are spread,
Eternal sunshine settles on its head.
Goldsmith.
Doth thy great Maker, Sun! forbid the thought,
That of his glory, thou one ray hast caught;
When thou go’st measuring the boundless skies,
Art thou not Sun! the brightness of his eyes?
Ah! if I’ve sometimes in misfortune’s days
Blasphem’d the sun’s vexation-causing rays;
And if I’ve cursed the gifts, receiv’d from thee,
My God! who readest hearts—O pardon me!
Pulling, from Lamartine.
I marvel not, O sun, that unto thee
In adoration man should bow the knee,
And pour the prayer of mingled awe and love;
For like a God thou art, and on thy way
Of glory sheddest, with benignant ray,
Beauty and life and joyance from above.
Southey.
Source of light! thou mak’st the sun
On his burning axles run:
The stars like dust around him fly,
And strew the area of the sky:
He drives so swift his race above,
Mortals can’t perceive him move;
To smooth his course oblique or straight,
Olympus shakes not with his weight.
As the queen of solemn night,
Fills at his vase her orb of light,
Imparted lustre, thus we see
The solar virtues shine by thee!
Phœbus borrows from thy beams
His radiant locks, and golden streams!
Whence thy warmth and light disperse,
To cheer the grateful universe.
Samuel Wesley.
Cold and obscure, in vain the king and sage
Gave law and learning to the darkened age.
There was no present faith, no future hope,
Earth bounded then the earth-drawn horoscope;
Till to the east there rose the promised star—
Till rose the Sun of Righteousness afar—
Till on a world redeemed the Saviour shone,
Earth for His footstool,—Heaven for His throne.
Miss Landon.
Sun of the firmament! planet of wonderment!
Now thy far journey of day it is done;
Still thou art parting bright, shedding immortal light
Down on the throne of night—hail! setting sun!
Slow thou depart’st away, far from the realms of day,
Ling’ring in pity on summer’s loved bowers;
Thy last ray is streaming, thy farewell tint beaming,
Yet soon thou’lt return to refreshen the flowers.
Thy parting brings sadness, yet nations in gladness
Are waiting to worship thee—fountain of light!
Where’er thy footsteps be, there do we beauty see,
Thou kindlest day in the dwellings of night.
Where sleeps the thunder—there dost thou wander,
Down ’neath the ocean deep, there dost thou stray,
Kissing the stars at morn, high on the air upborne,
Skirting creation’s far verge on thy way.
Grandeur and glory, they travel before thee,
Brightness and majesty walk in thy train!
Darkness it flies from thee, clouds may not rise to thee
When thou awak’st from the ocean again.
All own thy influence, kindly thou dost dispense
Blessings o’er nature where’er its bounds be;
Afric’s lone desert, it blooms at thy presence;
And Lapland is turn’d into summer by thee.
Time cannot conquer thee, age cannot alter thee,
Years have no power to limit thy sway;
Strength and sublimity, still they attend on thee,
Pilgrim of ages, but not of decay.
Sun of the firmament! planet of wonderment!
Now thy far journey of day it is done;
Still thou art parting bright, shedding immortal light
Down on the throne of night—hail! setting sun!
Robert Gilfillan.
O Sun! what makes thy beams so bright?
—The word that said “Let there be light!”
J. Montgomery.