For As Fire Is Kindled By Fire,

Thou Art The Sun Of Other Days. They Shine By Giving Back The Rays.

The Deeds We Do, The Words We Say,into Still Air They Seem To Fleet;we Count Them Ever Past;but They Shall Last -in The Dread Judgment Theyand We Shall Meet.

New Every Morning Is The Love Our Waking And Uprising Prove, Through Sleep And Darkness Safely Brought, Restored To Life And Power And Thought.

The Watchful Mother Tarries Nigh Though Sleep Have Closed Her Infant's Eye, For Should He Wake, And Find Her Gone.

Sun Of My Soul! Thou Saviour Dear, It Is Not Night If Thou Be Near.