SECT. CCLXXIV.—THE SUN.

1 O THOU that rollest above, round as the shield of my fathers! whence are thy beams, O Sun! thy everlasting light?
2 Thou comest forth in thy awful beauty, and the stars hide themselves in the sky: the moon, cold and pale, sinks in the
3 western wave. But thou thyself movest alone: who can be
4 a companion of thy course? The oaks of the mountains fall´; the mountains themselves decay with years´; the ocean shrinks and grows again´; the moon herself is lost in heaven´; but thou art forever the same, rejoicing in the brightness of thy course.

5 When the world is dark with tempests´; when thunders roll and lightnings fly´; thou lookest in thy beauty from the
6 clouds, and laughest at the storm. But to Ossian, thou lookest in vain; for he beholds thy beams no more; whether thy yellow hair floats on the eastern clouds, or thou tremblest
7 at the gates of the west. But thou art, perhaps, like me,
8 for a season; and thy years will have an end. Thou shalt sleep in thy clouds, careless of the voice of the morning.

9 Exult, then, O Sun, in the strength of thy youth! Age
10 is dark and unlovely: it is like the glimmering light of the moon, when it shines through broken clouds, and the [illegible] on the hills: the blast of the north is on the plain: the traveller shrinks in the midst of his journey.

                  ———