Oh Morning Star, crowned in glory
Burning bright, of light most holy
The paths of comets twist and fade
Just as the Moon, like a sparkling blade
Shies away from your beauty's gaze
How they pale to the light of your wings ablaze!
Oh Morning Star, in your house enthroned
With lilies, dewdrops and jewels adorned
From your palace of clouds, most splendid abode
Where the chariots of the Sun in times past rode
How angels sang in those wondrous days
Exalt and worship with honors praised!
But where are all the stars that shined?
Have all the dazzling lights gone blind?
The glow of comets never came
The face of the Moon is obscured in shame
The songs of angels, turned still and lame
And the wretched Sun, turned dim and tame!
Oh Morning Star, with hubris crossing
With your renegades, swords unsheathing
Soaring to battle with anger seething
But in your lust, destined for weeping
Struck down from on high, like lightning fall
And plunging from grace, to brimstones call!
Woe to you, oh Morning Star
Upon your breast, that cruel scar
See your crown, consumed by rust
And see your wings, transformed to dust
To the shade of hubris your soul descend
To the throes of ceaseless anguish condemned.