Page:Scenes in my Native Land.pdf/93

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welkin glows! what floods of purple light, Announce the coming of the King of Day— The streaming rays that every moment grow More tremulously bright, in haste uplift The diamond-pointed spear, and swiftly run Before his chariot. Lo! with dazzling pomp The gates of morning burst, and forth he comes In light ineffable, and strength supreme, Best image of the God that rules the world. Hill-top, and sacred spire, and monument, Receive him first, with princely reverence, And blushing, point him to the vales below. The sea doth greet him, flecked with gliding sails, That catch his radiance on their breast of snow, While joyously the little islands touch Their waving coronets, in loyalty. Up go the aspiring rays, and reddening fall On dome, and spreading tree, and cheerful haunt Of peace and plenty. Here our fathers dwelt, Simply in ancient times, the scattered huts Of the dark Indian, mingling with their own.