1
Work, for the Day is coming,
Day in the Word foretold,
When, 'mid the scenes triumphant,
Longed for by saints of old,
He, who on earth a stranger
Traversed its paths of pain,
Jesus, the Prince, the Savior,
Comes evermore to reign.
Day in the Word foretold,
When, 'mid the scenes triumphant,
Longed for by saints of old,
He, who on earth a stranger
Traversed its paths of pain,
Jesus, the Prince, the Savior,
Comes evermore to reign.
2
Work, for the Day is coming,
Darkness will soon be gone;
Then o'er the night of weeping
Day without end shall dawn.
What now we sow in sadness
Then we shall reap in joy;
Hope will be changed to gladness,
Praise be our blest employ.
Darkness will soon be gone;
Then o'er the night of weeping
Day without end shall dawn.
What now we sow in sadness
Then we shall reap in joy;
Hope will be changed to gladness,
Praise be our blest employ.
3
Work, for the Day is coming,
Made for the saints of light;
Off with the garments dreary,
On with the armor bright:
Soon will the strife be ended,
Soon all our toils below;
Not to the dark we're tending,
But to the Day we go.
Made for the saints of light;
Off with the garments dreary,
On with the armor bright:
Soon will the strife be ended,
Soon all our toils below;
Not to the dark we're tending,
But to the Day we go.
4
Work, for the Lord is coming,
Children of light are we;
From Jesus' bright appearing
Powers of darkness flee.
Out of the mist, at His bidding,
Souls like the dew are born:
O'er all the East are spreading
Tints of the rosy morn.
Children of light are we;
From Jesus' bright appearing
Powers of darkness flee.
Out of the mist, at His bidding,
Souls like the dew are born:
O'er all the East are spreading
Tints of the rosy morn.
5
Work, then, the Day is coming,
No time for sighing now;
Prize for the race awaits thee,
Wreaths for the victor's brow.
Now morning Light is breaking,
Soon will the Day appear;
Night shades appall no longer,
Jesus, our Lord, is near.
No time for sighing now;
Prize for the race awaits thee,
Wreaths for the victor's brow.
Now morning Light is breaking,
Soon will the Day appear;
Night shades appall no longer,
Jesus, our Lord, is near.
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Detroit, MI, United States
Annie also wrote a similar hymn to the same tune the same year, 1854, when she was 18 years old. This has been altered by Lowell Mason:
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1 Work, for the night is coming,
Work through the morning hours;
Work while the dew is sparkling,
Work ’mid springing flowers;
Work when the day grows brighter,
Work in the glowing sun;
Work, for the night is coming,
When man’s work is done.
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2 Work, for the night is coming,
Work through the sunny noon;
Fill brightest hours with labor,
Rest comes sure and soon.
Give every flying minute,
Something to keep in store;
Work, for the night is coming,
When man works no more.
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3 Work, for the night is coming,
Under the sunset skies;
While their bright tints are glowing,
Work, for daylight flies.
Work till the last beam fadeth,
Fadeth to shine no more;
Work, while the night is darkening,
When man’s work is o’er.
Detroit, MI, United States
Annie Louisa (Walker) Coghill was born in Kiddermore, England. She wrote this hymn while she was in Canada in 1854. It was first published in a Canadian newspaper. They lived first at Pointe-Levy and then moved to Sarnia, where her father continued to work for the Grand Trunk Railway. Around that time, Annie and 2 sisters, Isabella and Frances, ran a girls' school. She returned to England in 1863 and in 1883 married Henry Coghill. - Songs of the Spirit by Martin and cyberhymnal