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Lyrics

Lo! In the orient when the gracious light
Lifts up his burning head, each under eye
Doth homage to his new appearing sight
Serving with looks his sacred majesty

And having climbed the steep-up heavenly hill
Resembling strong youth in his middle age
Yet mortal looks adore his beauty still
Attending on his golden pilgrimage

Lyrics continue below...

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But when from highmost pitch, with weary car
Like feeble age, he reeleth from the day
The eyes, 'fore duteous, now converted are
From his low tract, and look another way
So thou, thyself outgoing in thy noon
Unlooked on diest unless thou get a son

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