Ode to the Sun

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
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 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
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 Fame that her high worth to raise
 Once seemed so lavish and profuse
 We may justly now accuse
 Of detraction from her praise