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