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