Morning’s golden light is breaking,
Tints of beauty paint the skies.
Morning’s feathered choir is waking,
Bidding me from sleep arise.
Well, I’m ready, quiet resting
Has restored my weary powers,
I’ll again, all sloth resisting,
Labor through the day’s bright hours.
Extras for Plus Members
- Song with chords (PDF)
- MIDI file
- Listen to the song