Christian, the morn breaks sweetly o’er thee,

And all the midnight shadows flee;

Tinged are the distant skies with glory,

A beacon-light hung out for thee;

Arise, arise! the light breaks o’er thee,

Thy name is graven on the throne,

Thy home is in the world of glory,

Where thy Redeemer reigns alone.

2 Tossed on time’s rude, relentless surges,

Calmly, composed, and dauntless stand;

For lo! beyond those scenes emerges

The hights that bound the promised land.

Behold! behold! the land is nearing,

Where the wild sea-storm’s rage is o’er;

Hark! how the heavenly hosts are cheering;

See in what throngs they range the shore!

3 Cheer up! cheer up! the day breaks o’er thee,

Bright as the summer’s noontide ray,

The star-gemmed crowns and realms of glory

Invite thy happy soul away;

Away! away! leave all for glory,

Thy name is graven on the throne;

Thy home is in that world of glory,

Where thy Redeemer reigns alone.