1. The church of the morning bright,
Like crystal so clear her light,
Triumphant, she knew no fears;
In finest white linen dressed;
Pure holiness she possessed,
Two hundred and sev’nty years.

R: Hell never can destroy the church,
Built by the Savior’s hands;
Upon the Rock, the solid Rock,
Christ Jesus, still she stands;
Despite of persecution’s flood,
And gates of hell forsooth;
She’s still the kingdom of the Lord,
The pillar of the truth.

2. The sun went down ere his time,
The moon also ceased to shine,
Left Zion in bitter tears;
No star then appeared in sight,
Oh, long dreary papal night!
Twelve hundred and sixty years.

3. A rising the sun of day,
Disperses the night away
While popery quakes with fears;
Shone dimly the gospel ray,
There followed a cloudy day—
Three hundred and fifty years.

4. We welcome the evening light;
The gospel so clear and bright
Breaks forth as in days of yore;
The mists are all cleared away,
All hail the supernal day!
The sun shall go down no more.