Classic Poem

Begin the work of praise,
The joys of song begin;
And, bid the mystical rays
To enter in.

The gleaming light, the guiding light,
The light that shines afar,
It yields a radiance pure and bright,
The beautiful, beautiful star.

It tells of deathless love,
And faith and hope sublime;
It lifts the soul above
All things of time.

It makes us free to die;
Since love has conquered death
No hopeful heart need sigh
To yield its breath.

Then let the song of praise
Our evening tasks begin,
And bid the mystical rays