10
John Brownlie
8,8,8,8
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The crimson blush of morning glows
On towering peaks where clouds repose;
And, lo! the sombre robe of night
Is rent with shafts of golden light.
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O Light Divine, each opening day
Illume our souls with gladdening ray;
And, as the sun his course pursues,
With growing light our lives diffuse.
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In childhood's morn, when wondering eyes
Behold the light that fills the skies;
And loins are girt at opening day
Life's myriad voices to obey:
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O Light Divine, serene and pure,
Shine on a path of life, secure;
Let joy, like songs the morn that greet,
Make music for the willing feet.
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11
When, prompted by the will of God,
A path we tread, before untrod;
And doubts our onward course attend,
Thy light upon our path extend.
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O Light of lights, when day is done,
And night pursues our setting sun,
Be ours to hail that better day,
Whose light Thou art eternally.
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