' But now at last, to end my story,
Rose the bright sun in a blaze of glory,
Bidding the slumbering world arise,
Soaring triumphant through the skies.
The darkness fled before its beams,
'Neath his bright rays the landscape gleams,
Had it been summer, songs of love
Had warbled forth from every grove,
Clothed in bright green, the stately trees
Had waved their branches in the breeze,
While verdant grass and floweret gay
Had basked beneath the living ray;
But now, although the dazzling glow
Shone over fields of cold white snow,
The scene was peasant to the sight
And fair to view in th' morning light;
So when-our journey nearly done-
In glory and splendor rose the sun,
I thought of the time when with banners unfurl’d.
The Lord will revisit this suffering world
(After, as Morning Star, He has come
And taken His bride to His own bright home),
And when, as the Sun of Righteousness,
He rises in glory bright to bless
His earthly people, forsaken long,
Filling their hearts with joy and song.
Israel! on whose devoted head
Has rested for centuries curses dread;
And as I thought of these coming days,
My heart burst forth in songs of praise.