The Sun God
The gray dawn reddens, and the freshening wind
Marshals the clouds across the mountain spires.
A light flames skyward where the mist has thinned
Like lifting smoke above old altar fires.
The canon pines' low murmur, and the hush
Of shifting sands amid dry desert grass,
The far-off chanting of the hermit trfrush,
The splash of waters in the rock-strewn pass.
Then the sun's rim above the kneeling hills,
The mounting splendor and melting blue;
The radiant whiteness of the desert fills
With glistening folds the far, notched mount in view.
And gloriously the golden presence thrills
The waiting earth to ecstasy anew.
*Source: Everybody's Magazine June 1921