The sun, whose rays are all ablaze with ever-living glory, does not deny his majesty--he scorns to tell a story! He don't exclaim, "I blush for shame, so kindly be indulgent"; but fierce and bold, in fiery gold, he glories all effulgent.
I mean to rule the earth, as he the sky-- We really know our worth, the sun and I!
Observe his flame, that placid dame, the moon's celestial highness; There's not a trace upon her face of diffidence or shyness: She borrows light, that, through the night, mankind may all acclaim her! And, truth to tell, she lights up well; So I, for one, don't blame her.
Ah, pray make no mistake, we are not shy; We're very wide awake, the moon and I!
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