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UP, SISTERS, MORN IS BREAKING.


Up, sisters! morn is breaking
Over the mountains grey,
As, borne on silvered pinions,
She ushers in the day.

She comes, and at her bidding
The empress of the night,
And starry hosts of heaven,
Veil their supernal light.

Scarce has their empire ended,
O'er the awakening earth,
When morning, fresh and joyous,
With dewdrops clad comes forth.

And now the great sun's chariot,
Led by the rosy hours,
Sweeps through the heavens proudly,
And o'er fond nature towers.