Christ, whose glo-ry fills the skies,
Christ, the true, the on-ly Light,
Sun of Right-eous-ness, a-rise,
Tri-umph o'er the shades of night;
Day-spring from on high, be near;
Day-star, in my heart ap-pear.
Dark and cheer-less is the morn
Un-ac-com-pa-nied by Thee;
Joy-less is the day's re-turn
Till Thy mer-cy's beams I see;
Till they in-ward light im-part,
Cheer my eyes and warm my heart.
Vis-it, then, this soul of mine;
Pierce the gloom of sin and grief;
Fill me, Ra-dian-cy Di-vine;
Scat-ter all my un-be-lief;
More and more Thy-self dis-play,
Shin-ing to the per-fect day.
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