At that dim hour, when ploughman first arise,
Roused from their homely couch and deep repose,
When stars still linger in the changing skies,
And in the East the dawning feebly glows,
'Tis doubtful long, which of the two bears sway,
The nascent day or unextinguished night,
Till ruddy morn, at length, with bright array,
Proclaims the triumph of victorious Light.
So when there breaks upon the heart's domain
The Light Divine, which mars the shades within,
Oh, who can tell which of the two shall reign,
The recent purity or ancient sin?
And yet the inward Light, like outward day,
Shall shine, revealed at last, with a triumphant ray.