Moral Pieces, in Prose and Verse/Morning

by Lydia Sigourney

For works with similar titles, see Morning.

MORNING.

THE morning clouds afar are roll'd,
    The birds awake my rest,
And see a ray of liquid gold
    Comes darting from the east.

What shall I render to the friend,
    From whom my blessings flow?
What shall I say to thee, my God,
    Whose hand supports me so?

Oh, raise my earth-born soul above,
    Bid all my pow'rs adore,
Nought can I render for thy love,
    But this request for more.