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| II. |
 | The Poetical Works of Frances Ridley Havergal |  |
Hidden in Light.
When first the sun dispels the cloudy night,The glad hills catch the radiance from afar,
And smile for joy. We say, ‘How fair they are,
Tree, rock, and heather-bloom, so clear and bright!’
But when the sun draws near in westering might,
Enfolding all in one transcendent blaze
Of sunset glow, we trace them not, but gaze
And wonder at the glorious, holy light.
Come nearer, Sun of Righteousness! that we,
Whose swift short hours of day so swiftly run,
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So lost in glory of the nearing Sun,
That not our light, but Thine, the world may see,
New praise to Thee through our poor lives be won.
| The Poetical Works of Frances Ridley Havergal | |