Slowly avoids the opening day:

Receding from the gazing eye,

The misty shades of twilight fly.

The ruddy streaks of light appear,

To guide our western hemisphere;

While tuneful choirs responsive join

To praise the gracious Pow’r Divine,

Whose mighty hand with sov’reign sway,

Restores, alternate, night and day.

Hail, opening morn! thy sober rays