Morn, that now meet'st the orient sun, now fliest
With the fixed stars, fixed in their orb that flies!
And ye five other wandering fires, that move
In mystic dance, not without song, resound
His praise, who out of darkness called up light!

4. Ye mists and exhalations, that now rise
From hill or streaming lake, dusky or gray,
Till the sun paint your fleecy skirts with gold,
In honor to the world's great Author, rise;
Whether to deck with clouds the uncolored sky,
Or wet the thirsty earth with falling showers,
Rising or falling, still advance his praise!

Join voices, all ye living souls! Ye birds,
That, singing, up to heavenly gates ascend,

Bear on your wings, and in your notes, his praise!
Hail Universal Lord! Be bounteous still

To give us only good; and if the night
Have gathered aught of evil, or concealed,
Disperse it, as now light dispels the dark.

To avoid fine, this book should be returned on

or before the date last stamped below

10M-9-39