The morning light is breaking;

The darkness disappears;

The sons of earth are waking

To penitential tears;

Each breeze that sweeps the ocean

Brings tidings from afar,

Of nations in commotion,

Prepared for Zion’s war.

See heathen nations bending

Before the God we love,

And thousand hearts ascending

In gratitude above;

While sinners, now confessing,

The gospel call obey,

And seek the Saviour’s blessing,

A nation in a day.

Blest river of salvation,

Pursue thine onward way;

Flow thou to every nation,

Nor in thy richness stay;

Stay not till all the lowly

Triumphant reach their home:

Stay not till all the holy

Proclaim: “The Lord is come!”