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tr., John Brownlie



The crimson blush of morning glows

On towering peaks where clouds repose,

And, lo! the sombre robe of night

Is rent with shafts of golden light.


O Light Divine, each opening day

Illume our souls with gladdening ray;

And, as the sun his course pursues,

With growing light our lives diffuse.


In childhood's morn, when wondering eyes

Behold the light that fills the skies;

And loins art girt at opening day

Life's myriad voices to obey,


O Light Divine, serene and pure,

Shine on a path of life, secure;

Let joy, like songs the morn that greet,

Make music for the willing feet.


When, prompted by the will of God,

A path we tread, before untrod;

And doubts our onward course attend,—

Thy light upon our path extend.


O Light of lights, when day is done,

And night pursues our setting sun,

Be ours to hail that better day,

Whose light Thou art eternally.

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