Brightly now on every hill
The sun's first rays are beaming,
And dew-drops on each blade of grass
Are in their beauty gleaming.
O'er every hill and every vale
The huntsman's horn is sounding,
And gayly o'er each brook and fence
His noble steed is bounding.
There's beauty in the glorious sun
When high mid heaven 't is shining,
There's beauty in the forest oak
When vines are round it twining;
There's beauty in each flower that blooms,
Each star whose light is glancing
From heaven to earth, as on apace
'T is noiselessly advancing.
Beauties are all around thy path,
And gloriously they're shining;
Nature hath placed them everywhere,
To guard men from repining.
Yet 'mong them all there's naught more fair,
This beauteous earth adorning,
Than the bright beauty gathering round
The early hours of morning.
John S. Adams