Let songs of praise arise
To God at early morn,
When golden beams from eastern skies
The mountain peaks adorn.

When plumaged songsters raise
Their varied notes of joy,
When blossoms breathe their fragrant praise,
Let praise our tongues employ.

At noontide, too, O Lord,
Thy praise shall be our theme,
When floods of burning light are poured
O�er mountain, vale and stream.

At evening�s starlit hour,
Still be His praise expressed,
When countless stars of light,
His pow�r and watchful love attest.