See the gold upon the hills, See the opal in the sky; Trembling dawn each valley fills, Christ's own morning draweth nigh. His the kingdom, His the crown, His the ages yet to be; All the lands of fair renown, And the islands of the sea. All the hungers of the race, All the wounds from which men cry: All are met in Jesus' grace; He doth heal and satisfy. None are strangers to His care, Royal gifts for all are free; All mankind His brethren are, And the world His Galilee. Victor He, when conquerors fail, King o'er all, when monarchs die; He shall through the earth prevail, Win the last long victory. His the gold upon the hills, His the light across the sea; His the purpose that fulfills, His the day that is to be.
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