8,8,8,8 A crown of gold surpassing rare, The western hills, in beauty wear; And earth and sea reflect the light, That fades before th' approach of night. O Glorious Sun! whose peerless ray Illumes the realm of endless day, Shine on a world where darkness dwells, And all the joy of day dispels. Soft o'er the land the twilight creeps; Night falls apace, and nature sleeps; Oh, let not night my life control, And plunge in sleep my drowsy soul. Sleep to the weary pilgrim give, But let the soul through slumber live; Wake when the first faint gleam of morn Tells that another day is born. Light of my life! bid night depart, Sing to my soul, and cheer my heart; That morn, and noon, and night may be One beauteous day of joy to me. And when the brightest morn shall break, And bid the eternal day awake, O glorious Sun! in radiance shine, To guard from night the realm Divine. |