The rays of the sun clothe the blue heaven with beauty; the dark masses of the Night are driven far.

There breaks from the lyre of the dawn a song of light and felicity, and the soul in its groves responds with quivering hope.
 

One whose hem trails over the dancing crests of the waters, and touches them to ripples of musical laughter,

Comes chanted by the orient in hymns of worship, and twilight on its glimmering tambour beats dance-time to the note-play of the rays.
 

She whose absence kept Night starved and afraid in its shadows, a vibrant murmur now are her steps on the horizon:

As in a saddle of sunrise the heart of tameless aspiration rides to its meeting with this Queen of Light.
 

One who descends in her golden chariot to the garden ways of earth to create her many rhythms of life, her every voice now hails in a long cry of welcome:

The flowers toss on the swings of delight; the goal beacons, the pathless riddle is dispelled for ever.
 

Loud sings the shining Charioteer, “Look up, O wayfarer; vanquished is the gloom of ages: the high tops are agleam with sheen of the jewelry of sunlight.

The impediments are shattered, the bonds are broken;

Day’s trumpets of victory blare the defeat of Darkness.

Ravine and lightless desert are fertile with rain of light, O Pilgrim;

Earth’s dust and gravel are transmuted into the glory of the lotus.

For the Dawn-Goddess has come, her hand of boon carrying fulfilment.”