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THE SUN.
The Sun comes forth;—each mountain height
Glows with a tinge of rosy light,
And flowers, that slumbered through the night,
Their dewy leaves unfold;
A flood of splendour bursts on high,
And ocean's breast gives back a sky
All steep’d in molten gold.
Oh! thou art glorious, orb of day;
Exulting nations hail thy ray,
Creation swells a choral lay,
To welcome thy return;
From thee all nature draws her hues,
Thy beams the insect's wing suffuse,
And in the diamond burn.
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