University of Virginia Library


310

III.

[Glad Morning now unfolds her wing]

Glad Morning now unfolds her wing,
And shakes the dews of night away;
The birds, from airy branches, sing,
To hail the near approach of day.
How sad to them when Sol retires!
How welcome his returning rays!
When love their every breast inspires,
To chant the great Creator's praise.
Come then, my soul! that Pow'r adore,
While light, and life, and time remain;
Soon will my day of life be o'er,
And death's descending darkness reign.