John Brownlie (trans.) · 6 of 99

6: The crimson blush of morning glows

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 are 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.