934
9s & 8s.
The day is at hand.
Rom. 13:12.
Christian, the morn breaks sweetly o’er thee,
And all the midnight shadows flee;
Tinged are the distant skies with glory,
A beacon-light hung out for thee;
Arise, arise! the light breaks o’er thee,
Thy name is graven on the throne,
Thy home is in the world of glory,
Where thy Redeemer reigns alone.
2 Tossed on time’s rude, relentless surges,
Calmly, composed, and dauntless stand;
For lo! beyond those scenes emerges
The hights that bound the promised land.
Behold! behold! the land is nearing,
Where the wild sea-storm’s rage is o’er;
Hark! how the heavenly hosts are cheering;
See in what throngs they range the shore!
3 Cheer up! cheer up! the day breaks o’er thee,
Bright as the summer’s noontide ray,
The star-gemmed crowns and realms of glory
Invite thy happy soul away;
Away! away! leave all for glory,
Thy name is graven on the throne;
Thy home is in that world of glory,
Where thy Redeemer reigns alone.