In the hush of the morn before the sun
I waken to think of thee
And all the sweet day thus begun
As hallowed sees to be.

In the holly repose the morning star
With trembling awaits the sun,
And thus my heart if near or far
Awaits thee, sweetest one.

In a golden ecstasy of bliss
The fair morning star wil die
But I immortal by thy kiss
Live but when thou art nigh.