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