Hail Smiling Morn!

Hail smiling morn, smiling morn,
That tips the hills with gold, that tips the hills with gold,
Whose rosy fingers ope the gates of day,
Ope the gates, the gates of day, Hail! Hail! Hail! Hail!
Who the gay face of nature doth unfold,
At whose bright presence darkness flies away, flies away,
Darkness flies away, darkness flies away,
At whose bright presence darkness flies away, flies away,
Hail! Hail! Hail! Hail! Hail! Hail! Hail! Hail!

– Black Bull, Ecclesfield