Morning Hangs a Signal, The

The morning hangs a signal upon the mountain crest,

while all the sleeping valleys in silent darkness rest.

From peak to peak it flashes, it laughs along the sky,

till glory of the sunlight on all the land shall lie.

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Above the generations the lonely prophets rise,

while truth flares as the daystar within their glowing eyes;

and other eyes, beholding, are kindled from that flame;

and dawn becomes the morning, when prophets love proclaim.

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The soul has lifted moments, above the drift of days,

when life’s great meaning breaketh in sunrise on our ways.

Behold the radiant token of faith above all fear;

night shall release its splendor that morning shall appear.