THE day is gone—my soul looks on
To that eternal Day,
When all our sorrow, all our sin,
Have fled and passed away.
The golden sun is sunk and gone,
Thou Light of Heaven above,
Thou Glory of eternal day,
My sunshine is Thy love.
Each living thing lies slumbering
From care and labor free;
May I, O Lord, be still and watch
Thy hidden work in me.
But when shall cease the changefulness
Of morning and of night?
Then when the Glory of the Lord
Is our eternal Light.
No cloud shall come, no evening gloom
On Salem shall descend;
The Lord her everlasting Day,
Her mourning at an end.
All praise to Thee! Oh there to be
Amidst that music-flood!
The many waters echoing round
The golden shores of God.
O Jesus mine, Thou Rest divine,
Lead me to Zion's height,
Where I, with all Thy ransomed ones,
Shall walk with Thee in white.
J. A. Freylinghausen, † 1739.