Still, Still With Thee

by: Harriet Beecher Stowe, 1812-1896

Still, still with thee, when purple morning breaketh,
When the bird waketh and the shadows flee;
Fairer than morning, lovelier than daylight,
Dawns the sweet consciousness, I am with thee.

Alone with thee, amid the mystic shadows,
The solemn hush of nature newly born;
Alone with thee in breathless adoration,
In the dew and freshness of the morn.

Still, still with thee! As to each newborn morning
A fresh and solemn splendor still is giv'n
So does this blessed consciousness awaking
Breathe each day nearness unto thee and heav'n.

So shall it be at last in that bright morning
When the soul waketh and life's shadows flee;
O in that hour, fairer than daylight dawning,
Shall rise the glorious thought, I am with thee.