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