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