I.

THOU art, O God, the life and light

Of all this wondrous world we see;

Its glow by day, its smile by night,

Are but reflections caught from thee: Where'er we turn thy glories shine,

And all things fair and bright are thine.

2.

When day, with farewell beam, delays
Among the opening clouds of even,
And we can almost think we gaze

Through golden vistas into heaven,

Those hues that make the sun's decline
So soft, so radiant, Lord, are thine.

3.

When youthful spring around us breathes,
Thy spirit warms her fragrant sigh;
And every flower the summer wreathes
Is born beneath that kindling eye:
Where'er we turn, thy glories shine,
And all things fair and bright are thine.

THOMAS MOORE, 1779-1852.