MORNING SONG.

My God, who makes the sun to know proper hour to rise;

His

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
Ilas all been spent in vain!

1 business (biz'ness), work.