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.