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