V
And the day of God shall waken
To the soul with fear,
If, the call of life forsaken,
We are slumbering here.
VI
From the hills the light is streaming,
Hail the gladsome morn!
And the light of God is beaming,—
This, His day, is born.
And the day of God shall waken
To the soul with fear,
If, the call of life forsaken,
We are slumbering here.
From the hills the light is streaming,
Hail the gladsome morn!
And the light of God is beaming,—
This, His day, is born.