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.