The King shall come when morning dawns,
And
light triumphant breaks;
When
beauty gilds the eastern hills,
And
life to joy awakes.
2
Not
as of old a little child
To
bear, and fight, and die,
But
crowned with glory like the sun
That
lights the morning sky.
3
O
brighter than the rising morn
When
He, victorious, rose,
And
left the lonesome place of death,
Despite
the rage of foes.
4
O
brighter than that glorious morn
Shall
dawn upon our race,
The
day when Christ in splendor comes,
And
we His face shall see.
5
The
King shall come when morning dawns,
And
light and beauty brings.
Hail,
Christ the Lord! Thy people pray,
Come
quickly, King of kings.