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