A Morning Hymn

Hark! the shrill herald of the morn Begins the sons of men to warn, And bids them all arise To celebrate his great renown, Who sends the light refulgent down, To bless our longing eyes.

At this the fainting shadows die, The powers of darkness swiftly fly Before the morning star: Pale, trembling murder dares not stay, And fiends, abash'd at sight of day, Back to their den repair.

'Tis this the weary sailor chears, Who now no more the tempest hears, Which morning bids to cease. O come that day-spring from on high, When discord shall with darkness fly, And all be light and peace!

'Twas this that drew repentant tears From PETER, led by worldly fears, His MASTER to disown; Warn'd by the Monitor of Day, He cast the works of night away, And sought the abjur'd Sun.

Whene'er the bird of dawning crows, He tells us how St. PETER rose, And mark'd us out the road; That each disciple might begin, Awake, like him, from sleep and sin, To think betimes on God.

Smote by the eye that looks on all, Let us, obedient to the call, Arise to weep and pray; Till as on Sin and Death we muse, Faith, like an Angel, tells the news— To Lord is risen to-day.