THE day will break: so soon! sweet dawning!
The shadows gone; alone with Thee,
With Thee, my light, my love! glad morning!
Away, away, ye shadows flee.
Out of the world, out of this sorrow,
With Him, the Prince of Peace and Joy;
Farewell to night, O speed dear morrow,
When praise shall be my sole employ.
The day will break; so soon! Time’s fleeting,
My little sorrows quick are o’er,
Each wings me swiftly to the meeting―
The deep, still calm of evermore.
Out of the world, out of this sinning,
Out of this death, out of this grave,
E’en now, my wondering heart beginning,
Triumphs in Him who lives to save.
Lift up thy head, O child of glory!
Shall tribulation tread thee down?
What! heart weep out thy dolesome story?
No, shout, There’s victory and crown.
Arise! and, king-like, firmly gazing
On mighty foes, their tumult scorn;
A sight the angel hosts amazing,
A saint depressed that waits the morn.
How shalt thou give of heavenly blessing,
If thou art crush’d ‘neath earthly woe?
Upon thy footsteps, set, are pressing
Those who would fain thy riches know.
Poor hearts, whose only hope is dying,
Whose only home this world of grief,
Arise! and from His stores supplying,
Afford them comfort and relief.
Out of this world! the morning hasteth,
Press on, press on, and greet the light.
Ah! he who morning’s prospect tasteth
Needeth no longer demos of night.
The day will break; so soon! I know it,
For Thou who art the Light hast said,
The night will soon be past. Oh! show it;
Around us all Thy brightness shed.