1 Sweet morn! from countless cups of gold, Thou liftest reverently on high More incense fine than earth can hold, To fill the sky.

2 Where'er the vision's boundaries glance, Existence swells with living power, And all the illumined earth's expanse Inhales the hour.

3 In man, O morn! a loftier good, With conscious blessing, fills the soul, -- A life by reason understood, Which metes the whole.

4 To thousand tasks of fruitful hope, With skill against his toil, he bends, And finds his work's determined scope Where'er he wends.

5 From earth and earthly toil and strife To deathless aims his soul may rise, Each dawn may wake to better life, With purer eyes.

6 Such grace from Thee, O God, be ours, Renewed with every morning's ray, And freshening still with added flowers Each future day.

7 To man is given one primal star; One dayspring's beam has dawned below; From Thine our inmost glories are, With Thine we glow.

8 Like earth awake and warm and bright, With joy the spirit moves and burns; So up to Thee, O Fount of Light, Our light returns.