He who sings creation's chords
Does call the stars of morning forward
To dwell in mortal coil on
The sphere wrought by His mighty song.
Does call the stars of morning forward
To dwell in mortal coil on
The sphere wrought by His mighty song.
Though trial’s oft-sung sad refrain
Brings shadows to this earthly plane,
Redeeming light’s sweet melody
Does swell and make the blind to see
Until this mortal verse draws nigh
And sets the spirit free to fly
To Him who penned such glorious tone
To sing before His mighty throne.
But soon another trumpet sounds
Whose call destroys death’s dreadful bounds.
And all do rise and sing the hymn
Of life eternal without end.