The morn­ing light is sure­ly grow­ing bright­er,
The star of Beth­le­hem, how pure its gen­tle ray;
The gloomy sky is grow­ing clear­er, light­er,
And soon will dawn the bless­èd, per­fect day.
At last the veil for us is rent asun­der,
The Spir­it speak­eth as it ne­ver spake be­fore;
We see and hear, we feel a thrill of won­der,
To find the Mas­ter knock­ing at the door.

Ho! ev­ery one that thirst­eth, take the wa­ters!
Behold the pre­cious bread of life for all that will;
The Fount of Right­eous­ness, O sons and daugh­ters,
Your long­ing, hun­gry thirst­ing souls can fill.
Come un­to Him, all ye that toil and la­bor,
And ye who are with hea­vy loads of sin op­pressed;
Now learn to serve the Lord and love thy neigh­bor,
And He will give your wea­ry spir­its rest.

The time fore­told is dai­ly draw­ing near­er,
When Christ will show us plain­ly of the Fa­ther’s love;
And saints His will, with vi­sion grow­ing clear­er,
Shall do on earth as done in Heav’n above.
See now the wait­ing har­vest stand­ing thick­ly,
And lo! the Mas­ter is the Prince of Beth­le­hem;
Make rea­dy all! behold He com­eth quick­ly,
To gar­ner for the New Je­ru­sa­lem!