Ethel Smyth, Mus.Doc.
When will the weary night be over? When will the laggard sun arise? Behold the east aglow at his coming, And soon will his radiance blind our eyes.
In fear we waited, in hope we shall meet him. He bursts through the clouds! up, up and greet him.
Long was the grieving, black the darkness. Heavy the silence of the night; For this the day shall fill you with gladness, For this shall you sing in your delight.
What though we suffered, and wept in our sorrow. 'Tis gone with the night, we hail the morrow!
Sisters, the poor and friendless need you, Seek you where other help has failed; Your faithful hands shall steer through the tempest, To wide sunlit oceans yet unsailed.
Bring balm and healing to hearts that are breaking, And point to the sky where hope is waking.
What of the friends who fought beside us, Gone from us never to return? Beyond the stars their bright spirits watch us, And lend us the fire where with we burn.
They bore our burden, they help us to bear it, And Victory won will know and share it!
Lost to our vision yet are they here, Whispering softly, softly, Lo dawn is near, dawn is near.
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