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 the 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 light and beauty brings:
Hail, Christ the Lord! Thy people pray,
Come quickly, King of Kings!

Amen.