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The King shall come when morning dawns
The King shall come when morning dawns,
And light triumphant breaks;
When beauty gilds the eastern hills,
And life to
joy awakes.
Not as of old a little child
To bear, and fight, and die,
But crowned with glory like the sun
That lights the
morning sky.
O brighter than the rising morn
When He, victorious, rose,
And left the lonesome place of death,
Despite the
rage of foes.
O brighter than that glorious morn
Shall this fair morning be,
When Christ, our King, in beauty comes,
And we
His face shall see.
The King shall come when morning dawns,
And earth’s dark night is past;
O haste the rising of that
morn,
The day that aye shall last.
And let the endless bliss begin,
By weary saints foretold,
When right shall triumph over
wrong,
And truth shall be extolled.
The King shall come when morning dawns,
And light and beauty brings:
Hail, Christ the
Lord! Thy people pray,
Come quickly, King of kings.
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