Or sending a quiet ray to rove,
And wake the shade of the deep-green grove.
The Sun is beautiful—“God of day,”
He sends o’er the earth a lordly ray,
He shames the sweet pensive Orb of night
By his radiant beams so fiercely bright.
Wind is beautiful—not to the eye—
You cannot see it—but hear it sigh
Lowly and sweet in a gentle breeze,
Rustling the tops of the lofty trees,