The brightest thing a house can do, When morning fills the skies, Is just to catch the sun's first rays, And flash the brilliant prize. No eighty-candle lights within Can match the dazzling sight, And every window-pane becomes A fusillade of light! Thus, thus it is when households kneel In humble morning prayer, The very Sun of Righteousness Is caught and captured there; And all the day, in all its ways, However dull they be, The happy windows of that home Are scintillant to see! |