Who am I, with noble face,
Shining in a clear blue place?
If to look at me you try,
I shall blind your little eye.
When my noble face I show
Over yonder mountain blue,
All the clouds away do ride,
And the dusky night beside.
Then the clear wet dews I dry,
With the look of my bright eye;
And the little birds awake,
Many a merry tune to make.
Cowslips then, and harebells blue,
And lily-cups their lips undo,
For they shut themselves up tight,
All the dark and foggy night.
Then the busy people go,
Every one his work unto;
Little girl, when your's is done,
Guess if I am not the Sun.