O Glorious Sun!
Shine in this heart of mine,
Drive all its darkness forth,
Thou Light Divine !

Let Thy pure rays
Its secret chambers flood,
With healing on their wings,
The balm of God.

Sweet is the light
At morn to watching eyes,
And pleasant to behold
The sun arise.

So, Lord, arise
Upon my longing sight,
That I may see in Thee
God's glory bright.

H. N. D.

(Lines suggested by a ray of sunlight which daily cheered the hours of suffering while lying in a hospital bed.)