O hark I have news, glad news for thee,
It has thrilled my soul with joy,
And to sound it abroad henceforth shall be
My life-long sweet employ.
The morning cometh! The radiant time
We have long'd for, draweth nigh;
O publish the tidings in every clime,
Proclaim them from earth to sky!
Hast thou watch'd in the gray dim light of dawn,
Ere the sunbeam shineth forth,
When all is still, save the fluttering breeze
Which stirreth and whispereth 'mid the trees,
And seemeth to call on their myriad leaves
To wake and to welcome the coming morn?
So methinks I have seen earth's stars grow dim
And her moonlight fads away;
And all around, I have heard the sound
Of His Spirit's breath, in this realm of death,
Bidding us wake and watch for Him!
And then as the sunbeam breaketh forth
And lighteth with glory the waking earth,
Hast thou heard the sweet burst of joyous praise
Which seemeth to rise in the morning lays
Of the wild birds to the sun?
Thus soon shall a song, a wondrous song,
Triumphant, glorious, free,
Hail the first ray of that endless day
And praise Him eternally!
For the morning cometh! The radiant time
We have longed for, draweth nigh.
O publish the tidings in every clime,
Proclaim them from earth to sky!
E. C. L.