HYMN TO THE SUN.
FROM THE GREEK OF DIONYSIUS.
———
BY HENRY WILLIAM HERBERT, TRANSLATOR
OF THE PROMETHEUS AND AGAMEMNON
OF ÆSCHYLUS, ETC. ETC.
———
Mute be the skies and still,
Silent each haunted hill
And valley deep!
Let earth, and ocean’s breast,
And all the breezes rest—
Let every echo sleep!
Unshorn his ringlets bright,
He comes—the lord of light—
Lord of the lyre.
Morn lifts her lids of snow,
Tinged with a rosy glow,
To greet thee, glorious sire.
Climbing, with winged feet
Of fiery coursers fleet,
Heaven’s arch profound,
Far through the realms of air,
From out thy sunny hair,
Thou flingest radiance round.
Thine are the living streams
Of bright immortal beams—
The founts of day!
Before thy path careers
The chorus of the spheres
With wild rejoicing lay.
The sad and silver moon
Before thy gorgeous noon
Slow gliding by,
Joys in her placid soul
To see around her roll
Those armies of the sky.