The radiant morn hath pass'd away, And spent too soon her golden store; The shadows of departing day Creep on once more. Our life is but a fading dawn, Its glorious noon, its noon how quickly past; Lead us, O Christ, when all is gone, Safe home at last. Where saints are clothed in spotless white, And evening shadows never fall, Where Thou, Eternal Light of Light, Art Lord of all.
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