Tomorrow morn, O joy all words transcending,
Our God will come in eucharistic guise,
Our hearts with His in sweet communion blending,
Will raptured taste the bliss of Paradise.
Oh Mother loved, our cold hearts prepare,
Thy Jesus seeks to make His dwelling there;
With virtue bright thy children’s hearts adorn,
For in their depths He’ll rest tomorrow morn,
For in their depths He’ll rest tomorrow morn.
Now fading fast day’s briliant rays declining,
Tell that the morn, the day of love is near,
That soon the Sun of Justice brightly shining
In mercy veiled will to our souls appear.
Oh Mother loved, our cold hearts prepare,
Thy Jesus seeks to make His dwelling there;
With virtue bright thy children’s hearts adorn,
For in their depths He’ll rest tomorrow morn,
For in their depths He’ll rest tomorrow morn.
Another morn will come, too sacred seeming,
When we may say farewell to mortal strife;
Haste, Haste, that dawn, now in the future gleaming,
The morn that leads us to eternal life.
Oh Mother loved, our cold hearts prepare,
Thy Jesus seeks to make His dwelling there;
With virtue bright thy children’s hearts adorn,
For in their depths He’ll rest tomorrow morn,
For in their depths He’ll rest tomorrow morn.
