1 The King shall come when morning dawns,
And light triumphant breaks;
When beauty gilds the eastern hills,
And life to joy awakes.

2 Not as of old, a little child
To bear, and fight, and die,
But crowned with glory like the sun,
That lights that morning sky.

3 O brighter than the rising morn,
When He, victorious, rose,
And left the lonesome place of death,
Despite the rage of foes;—

4 O brighter than that glorious morn,
Shall this fair morning be,
When Christ, our King, in beauty comes,
And we His face shall see.

5 The King shall come when morning dawns,
And earth’s dark night is past;
O haste the rising of that morn,
That day that aye shall last.

6 And let the endless bliss begin,
By weary saints foretold,
When right shall triumph over wrong,
And truth shall be extolled.

7 The King shall come when morning dawns,
And light and beauty brings;
Hail, Christ the Lord! Thy people pray
Come quickly, King of kings.

Amen.