tr., John Brownlie 8.8.8.8 I The morn awakes; from eastern hills The golden light creation fills; And arrows chase the night that flies Before the ever-brightening skies. II The morn awakes; up, soul of mine, And, like the morn, in beauty shine; Strong, as the high-ascending sun, Thy race of duty boldly run. III Night for the weary comes at length; Morn gives the soul the needed strength; Light shall thy path encircling, cheer, And melt each lingering cloud of fear. IV O Light of lights, when night descends, And brooding fear my life attends, Shew to my soul, that night departs When morning trims her glowing darts. V O Christ, Who art my Better Sun, Bright shines the day with Thee begun; No terror can the mind oppress, Nor cloud th' aspiring soul distress. VI To Thee, O glorious Light of light, Be honour paid when morn is bright; To Father, and to Spirit blest, Be glory every day exprest. |