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Its white arms stretching through the sheen
Of silvery mist, are gleaming;
A talisman, the world to screen,
Hope's symbol, in its seeming;
A wonder grand, a joy serene,
Upon the ages beaming.
When morning comes and sunlight streams
In tender, soft and golden gleams,
And through the curtains' dancing beams
Steal coyly in the room, My baby wakes in grave surprise, And turns her great and wondering eyes Toward the shimmering matin dyes
That tint the lily bloom.
'Tis double morn to thee, sweet one— The morn of day and a life begun— God grant thy day and life-time's sun
May ever sweetly shine; That happiness without alloy, That cannot fail or ever cloy, And brightest rays of purest joy,
May bless each hour of thine.