O, thou that glidest in the sky,
Round as the hero’s full hard shield,
Thy frownless lustre, whence on high?
Sun, whence thy ceaseless light revealed?
Thou comest in thy lovely might;
The stars conceal from us their motion;
The moon pale hies from heaven’s height,
And shrouds her in the western ocean.
Thou in thy distance art alone;
Who bold may dare approach thy might;