I hail the happy morn
Which ends a dreadful night
Where sin and shadow deem forlorn
The hope for morning light

I long to see the sun
Right now the foot-hills glow
The biting rays have yet begun
To melt the world of snow

I hail the quickened East
The blind may call me, “Fool!”
But I would rather humbly feast
Than proudly nibble stool

Dear friend, I bid you, look
Though it may hide below
The trick’ling waters of a brook
Oft’ tread a path in snow

A bitter herb is flesh
I hate my dying form
But ever does the heart refresh
When gazing at the Lord

Ten hundred worlds of gold
A thousand dearest friends
Look vain beside what I behold:
The risen Son of Man

I hail the crist’ned Lord –
My soul, ’tis well to shake
The King is nigh – those ill adorned
Shall face a sulphur lake

By mercy shall I thrive
On this I rest my head:
Had not the Lord made me alive
I’d curse the hands that bled

His Triune work, applaud
My hope is nothing less
Elected, pardoned, sealed by God
For glory in His bliss

I see these things by faith
And treasure them by night –
All joy is mine when morning breaks
And darkness turns to light!