O gold­en day! so long de­sired,
Born of a dark­some night,
Soon shall the wait­ing earth be fired
With thy re­splen­dent light;
Soon shall re­sound the joy­ous word
O’er hill and vale and sea,
One mas­ter, Christ; one so­ver­eign Lord,
And breth­ren all are we.

Soon shall the night of dark­ness cease,
It storms no long­er roar;
The threat­en­ing foes of God’s own peace
Shall vex His world no more;
Ten thou­sand, thou­sand hearts shall sing
The surg­ing har­mo­ny,
One mas­ter, Christ; one Sav­ior King,
And breth­ren all are we.

Sing on, ye chorus of the morn,
Lift high the glad re­frain,
Till o’er the dist­ant isles is borne
The sweet tri­um­phant strain;
Till ev­ery race, with ran­somed pow­ers,
In lov­ing loy­al­ty
Shall sing, One mas­ter, Christ, is ours,
And breth­ren all are we.

O golde­n day! the ag­es’ crown,
Alight with heav’n­ly love,
Glad day of pro­mise and renown,
On to thy tri­umph move;
When all the world with one accord,
In full voiced un­ity,
Shall sing, One mas­ter, Christ, our Lord,
And breth­ren all are we.