I saw when you first rose beyond the hills
And sharply glanced upon the covert lake
Where night still held its secrets.
Watched as you rode higher, paling your consorts,
Striking with sword of silver witchery across the dark water
And watching, wondered… 
You were a riddle, insoluble, remote
An icy eye mocking with timeless stare
Man’s latest solemn pledge and plan 
Viewing dispassionately the night’s grim deed
The spring of hope.
Or was there in your steadfast beam a well
Where men might drink of constancy and courage
to go anew?
Such were my thoughts and more, but nought resolved
Save this that as I watched you soar,
still brilliant,
In a pearling, windswept sky, higher yet
Above the orange glow that fired the hills dark rim,
I knew at last I looked upon a scene that cleansed,  
And  brought refreshment to a wearied soul.

J.K.Osborne, 1946