O PERFECT Light, which shaid away
The darkness from the light,
And set a ruler o'er the day,
Another o'er the night—
Thy glory, when the day forth flies,
More vively doth appear
Than at mid day unto our eyes
The shining sun is clear.
The shadow of the earth anon
Removes and drawis by,
While in the East, when it is gone,
Appears a clearer sky.
Which soon perceive the little larks,
The lapwing and the snipe,
And tune their songs, like Nature's clerks,
O'er meadow, muir, and stripe.
Our hemisphere is polisht clean,
And lighten'd more and more,
While everything is clearly seen
Which seemit dim before:
Except the glistering astres bright,
Which all the night were clear,
Offuskit with a greater light
No longer do appear.
The golden globe incontinent
Sets up his shining head,
And o'er the earth and firmament
Displays his beams abread.
For joy the birds with boulden throats
Against his visage sheen
Take up their kindly musick notes
In woods and gardens green.
The dew upon the tender crops,
Like pearlis white and round,
Or like to melted silver drops,
Refreshis all the ground.
The misty reek, the clouds of rain,
From tops of mountains skails,
Clear are the highest hills and plain,
The vapours take the vales.