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!