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