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