1 O Thou, whose beams serenely bright,
Can chase the darkness of my soul,
And pour a flood of purest light,
Where now the shades of midnight roll:
Ah! why so long should horror shroud
This mourning breast with deep despair?
Break through the dark and envious cloud,
Arise, arise, O Morning star.
2 Through a long night of griefs and fears,
With gloom and sorrow compass'd round
I drop my uncomplaining tears,
Nor yet the radiant dawn have found;
Still towards the chambers of the day,
With eyes intent, expecting there,
With patient hope, thy promis'd ray,
I long for thee, sweet Morning star.
3 Increasing clouds announce thee nigh,
Slumber my weary eyes invades;
Death spreads his horrors o'er the sky,
And thickens all the gather'd shades.
I yield, I bow my drooping head,
Resign, at length, my anxious care
I sink awhile among the dead,
To wake and hail my Morning star.
Source: Hymns, Selected and Original: for public and private worship (1st ed.) #162