1
a Day Savior,
Comes the old,
He, stranger
Traversed ’mid triumphant,
Longed the to of Prince, for is on evermore reign. the by who its the paths Work, scenes the foretold,
When, Word coming,
Day earth pain,
Jesus, saints in of for
Comes the old,
He, stranger
Traversed ’mid triumphant,
Longed the to of Prince, for is on evermore reign. the by who its the paths Work, scenes the foretold,
When, Word coming,
Day earth pain,
Jesus, saints in of for
2
gladness,
Praise our soon for now the shall weeping
Day in dawn.
What o’er blest joy;
Hope be end in be sadness
Then employ. the Work, shall be is changed night we gone;
Then of to will Day coming,
Darkness we reap will without sow
Praise our soon for now the shall weeping
Day in dawn.
What o’er blest joy;
Hope be end in be sadness
Then employ. the Work, shall be is changed night we gone;
Then of to will Day coming,
Darkness we reap will without sow
3
with Day the toils the we’re be for the the our for is dark go. light;
Off we of to armor Work, ended,
Soon bright:
Soon with the Day the the strife coming,
Made below;
Not garments tending,
But all to saints dreary,
On will
Off we of to armor Work, ended,
Soon bright:
Soon with the Day the the strife coming,
Made below;
Not garments tending,
But all to saints dreary,
On will
4
of morn. of East of at Lord Work, light the all are coming,
Children dew of the flee.
Out mist, for born:
O’er is rosy bidding,
Souls the the we;
From appearing
Powers are spreading
Tints His darkness the bright are Jesus’ like
Children dew of the flee.
Out mist, for born:
O’er is rosy bidding,
Souls the the we;
From appearing
Powers are spreading
Tints His darkness the bright are Jesus’ like
5
longer,
Jesus, near. no for then, breaking,
Soon sighing Day Work, shades for is Light for coming,
No now;
Prize appear;
Night our the Day will the time the appall victor’s awaits the Lord, is thee,
Wreaths race is brow.
Now morning
Jesus, near. no for then, breaking,
Soon sighing Day Work, shades for is Light for coming,
No now;
Prize appear;
Night our the Day will the time the appall victor’s awaits the Lord, is thee,
Wreaths race is brow.
Now morning
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