MY God, who makes the Sun to know His proper hour to rise, And to give light to all below, Doth send him round the skies. When from the chamber of the east His morning race begins, He never tires, nor stops to rest, But round the world he shines. So, like the Sun, would I fulfil The business of the day; Begin my work betimes, and still March on my heavenly way. Give me, O Lord, thy early grace, Nor let my soul complain That the young morning of my days Has all been spent in vain. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ROBERT E. LEE by JULIA WARD HOWE FOR LOVE'S SAKE, KISS ME ONCE AGAIN! by BEN JONSON DORIS; A PASTORAL by ARTHUR JOSEPH MUNBY MY SHADOW by ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON THE BOOK OF EXODUS: SONG OF THE SEA by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE SONNETS FROM THE PORTUGUESE: 30 by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING |