Like strands of coloured thread;
Embroidered all the clouds with gold,
And blue, and green, and red.
Then o’er the mountain, full in view,
Nature’s great Monarch rose:
And from his tent of Royal blue
Hurled darts upon his foes.
Eternal foe of Gloom and Night,
On high he raised his arm;
His shield of gold, all shining bright,