Thomas Hood

Hymn to the Sun

  Giver of glowing light!
Though but a god of other days,
    The kings and sages
    Of wiser ages
Still live and gladden in thy genial rays!

  King of the tuneful lyre,
Still poets' hymns to thee belong;
    Though lips are cold
    Whereon of old
Thy beams all turn'd to worshipping and song!

  Lord of the dreadful bow,
None triumph now for Python's death;
    But thou dost save
    From hungry grave
The life that hangs upon a summer breath.

  Father of rosy day,
No more thy clouds of incense rise;
    But waking flow'rs
    At morning hours,
Give out their sweets to meet thee in the skies.

  God of the Delphic fame,
No more thou listenest to hymns sublime;
    But they will leave
    On winds at eve,
A solemn echo to the end of time.