Come forth in thy purple robes again,
Thou brightest star of heaven!
Another day the Guardian of men
Has to his children given.
Receive the gift with gratitude;
My soul! to thy Maker ascend,
And bear thy songs to the Source of good,
To thy Father and thy Friend.
Bring Him thy morning tribute meet,
Devotion's offering;
How privileged to hold communion sweet
With thine and creation's King!
I look around,-a thousand things
Enjoy the sunny beam;
And nature her million voices brings
To form an anthem to Him.
O join the songs of the air, the grove,
And the chorus of the sea;
For, hark! the spirits of light above
Re-echo the harmony.
And see! ten thousand angels smile
Thro' the firmament's golden doors;
And from silver clouds, heaven's hand the while
Scatters our path with flowers.
The senses indeed must be dark and dull,
That in nature no charms can see;
For beauty's self is not more beautiful
To the eye of piety.
And deaf indeed is the clay-cold ear,
That no sounds of music greet;
Tho' nought as the music of praise and prayer
Is half so exquisite.
And why should man a distant bliss
So eagerly, fondly chase,
While the holy joys of a world like this
Invite his present embrace?
Are the unknown beings of yonder zone
More privileged than we?
Does a shorter year, or a brighter sun,
Imply felicity?
They may wander perchance in groves of palms,
And dwell in palaces bright;
They may breathe an air as sweet as balm,
And be clad in robes of light;
Yet there, as here, the fatal grave
Will o'er their possessions close;
And the more they hope, and the more they have,
The more they are destined to lose.
O let our portion content us then,
The portion which God has given;
For man is the fair earth's denizen,
And the heritor of heaven.
Above him are gorgeous, golden clouds,
That roll in glory afar;
And the night, which its bosom in darkness shrouds,
Is sprinkled with many a star.
And brighter and fairer than star or sun
Is the light that beams from on high;
A light which conducts its pilgrims on
To the shrine of eternal joy;
And thither our towering thoughts shall soar,
And there the tired spirit shall rest;
While hope bursts open the heavenly door
Of the mansions of the blest.