When from my humble bed I rise,
And see the morning sun,
That, glorious in the eastern skies,
Its journey has begun,
I think of the Almighty Power
Which called this orb from night;
I think how many at this hour
Rejoice beneath its light.
And then I pray, in every land,
Where'er this light is shed,
That all who live may bless the Hand
Which gives their daily bread.