Treasure Island

Thomas Parnell

(1679 - 1718 / Ireland)

A Hymn for Morning


See the star that leads the day
Rising shoots a golden ray,
To make the shades of darkness go
From heaven above and earth below;
And warn us early with the sight
To leave the beds of silent night,
From a heart sincere and sound
From its very deepest ground,
Send devotion up on high
Wing'd with heat to reach the sky.
See the time for sleep has run,
Rise before, or with the sun,
Lift thine hands and humbly pray
The fountain of eternal day,
That as the light serenely fair
Illustrates all the tracts of air,
The sacred spirit so may rest
With quick'ning beams upon thy breast,
And kindly clean it all within
From darker blemishes of sin,
And shine with grace until we view
The realm it gilds with glory, too.
See the day that dawns in air,
Brings along its toil and care;
From the lap of night it springs
With heaps of business on its wings;
Prepare to meet them in a mind
That bows submissively resign'd,
That would to works appointed fall,
And knows that God has order'd all.
And whether with a small repast
We break our sober morning fast,
Or in our thoughts and houses lay
The future methods of the day,
Or early walk abroad to meet
Our business, with industrious feet,
Whate'er we think, whate'er we do,
His glory still be kept in view.
O Giver of eternal bliss,
Heavenly Father, grant me this;
Grant it all as well as me,
All whose hearts are fix'd on Thee,
Who revere Thy Son above,
Who Thy sacred Spirit love.

Submitted: Friday, January 03, 2003

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