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