Scripture Verse

Weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morn­ing. Psalm 30:5


Fanny Crosby (1820–1915)

Words: Fan­ny Cros­by, in Bells of Glad­ness No. 1, ed­it­ed by Otis F. Pres­brey & Je­re­mi­ah E. Ran­kin (Chi­ca­go, Il­li­nois: West­ern Sun­day School Pub­lish­ing, 1882). Some hym­nals give the au­thor as Liz­zie Ed­wards, one of Fan­ny’s pseu­do­nyms.

Music: John R. Swe­ney (🔊 pdf nwc).

John R. Sweney (1837–1899)


We are pil­grims look­ing home,
Sad and wea­ry oft we roam,
But we know ’twill all be well
In the morn­ing;
When our an­chor firm­ly cast,
Every stor­my wave is past,
And we ga­ther safe at last
In the morn­ing.


When we all meet again
In the morn­ing,
On the sweet bloom­ing hills
In the morn­ing;
Nevermore to say good night
In that sun­ny re­gion bright,
When we hail the bless­èd light
Of the morn­ing.

O these ten­der brok­en ties,
How they dim our ach­ing eyes,
But like jew­els they will shine
In the morn­ing;
When our vic­tor palms we bear
And our robes im­mor­tal wear,
We shall know each oth­er there,
In the morn­ing.


When our fet­tered souls are free,
Far be­yond the nar­row sea,
And we hear the Sav­ior’s voice
In the morn­ing;
When our gold­en sheaves we bring
To the feet of Christ our king,
What a cho­rus we shall sing
In the morn­ing.


Thro’ our pil­grim jour­ney here,
Tho’ the night is some­times drear,
Let us watch and per­se­vere
Till the morn­ing;
Then our high­est tri­bute raise
For the love that crowns our days,
And to Je­sus give the praise
In the morn­ing.