Invocation to the Sun in Glory by Elizabeth Barrette
Sun Prince come, Lord of the Waxing Year, God of the Golden Ray!
Now we lay the sacred feast, Now we sing the hymns of old, Now we dance the ancient ways.
Apollo, Tammuz, Belos, Lugh – Turn Your fair face towards us And crown us with flowers. Strike the harp And play a merry tune. Shower Your blessings on field and flock
And on all Your followers here.
He is come! Behold the Sun in Glory!
This poem was originally published in PagaNetNews Vol. VII, Iss. IV, Litha 2000.