The
Beautiful
Sun
by
William
Topaz
MacGonagall
Beautiful
Sun!
with
thy
golden
rays,
To
God,
the
wise
Creator,
be
all
praise;
For
thou
nourisheth
all
the
creation,
Wherever
there
is
found
to
be
animation.
Without
thy
heat
we
could
not
live,
Then
praise
to
God
we
ought
to
give;
For
thou
makest
the
fruits
and
provisions
to
grow,
To
nourish
all
creatures
on
earth
below.
Thou
makest
the
hearts
of
the
old
feel
glad,
Likewise
the
young
child
and
the
lad,
And
the
face
of
Nature
to
look
green
and
gay,
And
the
little
children
to
sport
and
play.
Thou
also
givest
light
unto
the
Moon,
Which
certainly
is
a very
great
boon
To
all
God's
creatures
here
below,
Throughout
the
world
where'er
they
go.
How
beautiful
thou
look'st
on
a
summer
morn,
When
thou
sheddest
thy
effulgence
among
the
yellow
corn,
Also
upon
lake,
and
river,
and
the
mountain
tops,
Whilst
thou
leavest
behind
the
most
lovely
dewdrops!
How
beautiful
thou
seem'st
in
the
firmament
above,
As
I gaze
upon
thee,
my
heart
fills
with
love
To
God,
the
great
Creator,
Who
has
placed
thee
there,
Who
watches
all
His
creatures
with
an
eye
of
care!
Thou
makest
the
birds
to
sing
on
the
tree,
Also
by
meadow,
mountain,
and
lea;
And
the
lark
high
poised
up
in
air,
Carolling
its
little
song
with
its
heart
free
from
care.
Thou
makest
the
heart
of
the
shepherd
feel
gay
As
he
watches
the
little
lambkins
at
their
innocent
play;
While
he
tends
them
on
the
hillside
all
day,
Taking
care
that
none
of
them
shall
go
astray.
Thou
cheerest
the
weary
traveller
while
on
his
way
During
the
livelong
summer
day,
As
he
admires
the
beautiful
scenery
while
passing
along,
And
singing
to
himself
a stave
of
a song.
Thou
cheerest
the
tourist
while
amongst
the
Highland
hills,
As
he
views
their
beautiful
sparkling
rills
Glittering
like
diamonds
by
the
golden
rays,
While
the
hills
seem
to
offer
up
to
God
their
praise.
While
the
bee
from
flower
to
flower
does
roam
To
gather
honey,
and
carry
it
home;
While
it
hums
its
little
song
in
the
beautiful
sunshine,
And
seemingly
to
thank
the
Creator
divine.
For
the
honey
it
hath
gathered
during
the
day,
In
the
merry
month
of
May,
When
the
flowers
are
in
full
bloom,
Also
the
sweet
honeysuckle
and
the
broom.
How
beautiful
thy
appearance
while
setting
in
the
west,
Whilst
encircled
with
red
and
azure,
'tis
then
thou
look'st
best!
Then
let
us
all
thank
God
for
thy
golden
light
In
our
prayers
every
morning
and
night!
