To the Sun

O Thou whose inextinguishable eye Now sleeps beneath the ocean stream, Whether the star of morn shall call thee forth To pour thy rich and fiery beam Through the wide arch of an unclouded sky; Or whether the rude North Shall o’er thy head his showery mantle cast, Making the dank earth shiver at his blast; Welcome alike to me! the genial day That gave my fair Eliza birth Needs not thy gaudy smile to make it glad: Still cheer the spleeny race of earth With the warm lustre of thy fostering ray; On me in vain are shed Thy beams and unregarded, while I prove The dearer influence of Her smiles and love.