Sun

By Henry Rowe

1750-1819


ANGEL, king of streaming morn;
Cherub, call'd by Heav'n to shine;
T' orient tread the waste forlorn;
Guide aetherial, pow'r divine;
         Thou, Lord of all within!

Golden spirit, lamp of day,
Host, that dips in blood the plain,
Bids the crimson'd mead be gay,
Bids the green blood burst the vein;
         Thou, Lord of all within!

Soul, that wraps the globe in light;
Spirit, beckoning to arise;
Drives the frowning brow of night,
Glory bursting o'er the skies;
         Thou, Lord of all within!

DayPoems Poem No. 459
<a href="http://www.daypoems.net/poems/459.html">Sun by Henry Rowe</a>

The DayPoems Poetry Collection, www.daypoems.net
Timothy Bovee, editor

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