Ode to the Sun - Obscura

What sudden blaze of majesty

Is that which we from hence descry

To whom our vows and wishes bend

Here our solemn search has end

Mother of a hundred gods

Divine creation give her odds

Who had thought this clime had held

A deity, numinous and unparalleled

This this is she — sitting like a Goddess bright

This this is she — in the center of her light

Mark what radiant state she spreads

In circle round her shining throne

Scatter radiance like silver shreds

This this is she

To the celestial sirens harmony

And turn the adamantine spindle round

On which the fate of gods and men is wound

This this is she

Fame that her high worth to raise

Once seemed so lavish and profuse

We may justly now accuse

Of detraction from her praise

This this is she