Fervently rosy, with an ancient glow,
But never any starlight from our sun;
It's glad rays in pure radiance flow,
Like molten gold, or as sugar spun!

Be it sunset red, or our vital light,
This golden traveler in black space;
Wherever it goes, it pierces night-
In the madly vivid, celestial race!

It's rays on glass makes fun diamonds,
But, deep shadows lie whence it blinks;
And night itself it's always shunned,
So, from such disdain, night shrinks!

It's presence keeps seasons in tune,
And gives amity and color to the wild;
And spreads the joys of harvest boon,
Whereon the fields of summer, it smiled.

Who gave birth to all our endless days,
When we milked the Milky Way Galaxy;
And left a trail of lost, wild bouquets,
While dreaming many dreams yet to be!