SongII

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Song

II

The True Sun

Homer with mellifluous tongue

Phoebus’ glorious light hath sung,

Hymning high his praise;

Yet his feeble rays

Ocean’s hollows may not brighten,

Nor earth’s central gloom enlighten.

But the might of Him, who skilled

This great universe to build,

Is not thus confined;

Not earth’s solid rind,

Nor night’s blackest canopy,

Baffle His all-seeing eye.

All that is, hath been, shall be,

In one glance’s compass, He

Limitless descries;

And, save His, no eyes

All the world survey⁠—no, none!

Him, then, truly name the Sun.