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