Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, SONG OF THE SUN, by ELIZA COOK


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

SONG OF THE SUN, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: Supreme of the sky - no throne so high
Last Line: But they quench not, they reach not the sun nor the soul.
Subject(s): Sun


Supreme of the sky -- no throne so high --
I reign a monarch divine;
What have ye below that doth not owe
Its glory and lustre to mine?
Has beauty a charm I have not helped
To nurture in freshness and bloom?
Can a tint be spread -- can a glance be shed
Like those I deign to illume?
Though ye mimic my beam, as ye do and ye will,
Let all galaxies meet, I am mightiest still!

The first red ray that heralds my way,
Just kisses the mountain-top;
And splendour dwells in the cowslip bells
While I kindle each nectar drop;
I speed on my wide refulgent path,
And nature's homage is given;
All tones are poured to greet me adored
As I reach the blue mid-heaven;
And the sweetest and boldest, the truly free
The lark and the eagle come nearest to me

The glittering train so praised by man,
The moon, night's worshipped queen,
The silvery scud, and the rainbow's span,
Snatch from me their colours and sheen.
I know when my radiant streams are flang,
Creation shows that all is bright,
But I'm jealous of naught save the face of the young,
Laughing back my noontide light:
I see nothing so pure or so dazzling on earth,
As childhood's brow with its halo of mirth.

My strength goes down in the crystal caves,
I gem the billow's wide curl,
I paint the dolphin and burnish the waves,
I tinge the coral and pearl.
Love ye the flowers? What power, save mine,
Can the velvet rose unfold?
Who else can purple the grape on the vine,
Or flush the wheat-ear with gold?
Look on the beam-lit wilderness spot --
'Tis more fair than the palace, where I come not.

Though giant clouds ride on the whirlwind's tide,
And gloom on the world may fall,
I yet flash on in gorgeous pride,
Untarnished above them all.
So the pure warm heart for awhile may appear,
In probations of sorrow and sin,
To be dimmed and obscured, but trial or tear
Cannot darken the spirit within.
Let the breast keep its truth, and life's shadow may roll,
But they quench not, they reach not the sun nor the soul.





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