In early morning's stillness, before the bright sun glares,
Angel voices find us, with softest reverent prayers.
They sing of God's great glory, which He so freely gives.
And carol of His great praises, and things each day we live.
They come from great creations he's given us to be,
The smallest of his presences, the things you might not see.

They call us from the tree tops, from the lapping waters edge,
And hail us from the meadows, where the trickling rivers tread.
They whisper in the mist against the softest velvet rose,
And sing like little morning doves in freshly fallen snows.
They laugh with all the violets, which greet the mornings light,
And flutter like a butterfly who's stretched her wings in flight.

It's the whistle of the wind through colored leaves in graceful soar,
The cheer from all the daffodils that dance the meadows floor,
The song of happy mockingbirds with harmony in G,
The whisper of the waters breath that rushes to the sea,
The singing of the honey bees who kiss the morning dew,
The call of lonely whippoorwill, when last the day is through.

Sir Frog leaps forth on podiums pad to give us nature's beat,
And starts the waltz of Sunfish Bream that play at cattails feet.
The fireflies dance to crickets jig, just like a county fair,
And twinkles with a gleam so big it brightens up the air.
Till spiders net the morning mist that sparkles all like diamonds,
And Dragon flies patrol the skies and eagles soar the highlands.

That's God's Symphony, He wrote for all to hear.
To wash out all the heartache and dry out every tear.
That's God's Symphony, He gave it just to me,
To set my soul in comfort, and let my spirit free.
That's God's Symphony He'll give to those who'll share,
The early morning witness to an Angels reverent prayer.
 
 

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