John Brownlie (trans.) · 17 of 89

See, from the eastern hills, the morn

I See, from the eastern hills, the morn Its glowing shafts unsparing flings; And to a waking world are borne The light and joy that morning brings: O God of love, to Thee we raise Our early song of gladsome praise.

II There, on the flower-bespangled sod, The petals open to the sun; And feathered songsters sing to God, And hail the cheerful day begun: With theirs, our early songs unite, To praise our God Who gives the light.

III Morn of a better day, we sing Thy praise, O Christ, Whose wondrous grace Can brightness to our darkness bring, And scatter night before Thy face: Now let our morning praise arise, A glad accepted sacrifice.

IV O let our life a morning know,— The promise of a better day; And set our night-chilled hearts aglow, And fill them with Thy joy, we pray: Then shall our praise to Thee arise, A glad accepted sacrifice.

V Sun of our life, O Christ, art Thou; No clouds depress when Thou art near; Come with Thy radiant beauty now, And let that morn of joy appear: Glad shall our songs of praise arise When morn is shining in our skies.