The March sunne raises but dissolves not.
My 10th Sonata is a sonata of insects. Insects are born from the sun... they are the sun's kisses.
Long live the sun which gives us such beautiful color.
Now from the smooth deep ocean-stream the sun Began to climb the heavens, and with new rays Smote the surrounding fields.
More than anything, one is struck by the light. Light everywhere. Brightness everywhere. Everywhere, the sun.
Up came the sun, and drank the dew.
When the sun shines, you let it shine on you
The rising sun complies with our weak sight, First gilds the clouds, then shows his globe of light At such a distance from our eyes, as though He knew what harm his hasty beams would do.
It was still early, and the sun's lower limb was just free of the hill, his rays, ungenial and peering, addressed the eye rather than the touch as yet.
