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