June, 2026
In the East—away!—he rose
All ablush with dawn.
Though his face by youth was dimmed
I scarce could look upon—
Upon such noble face as him
The Lord of Light and Day.
His majesty did only grow
As seconds fell away,
For glories from his face e’er flowed
And all about was fair—
Was fair in his bright morning rays
That warmed the cool night air.
His glory did increase with age
And all was cast in gold.
No dwarf nor god a thing could craft
From gem or metal cold
Cold as death, so wondrous as
The earth so merry gilt.
So with him the day was born
And all with joy were filled.
They sang out in the merry morn
So fair and young and bright—
So bright to all! Their songs arose
To praise the Lord of Light!
