Assorted Flowers and Eternal Source of every joy and We are marching onward to the heav’nly land

Eternal Source of every joy,
Well may thy praise our lips employ,
While in thy temple we appear,
Whose goodness crowns the circling year.

The flowery spring, at thy command,
Embalms the air and paints the land;
The summer rays with vigor shine,
To rise the corn and cheer the vine.

Thy hand in autumn richly pours
Through all our coasts redundant stores;
And winters, softened by thy care,
No more a face of horror wear.

Seasons, and months, and weeks, and days,
Demand successive songs of praise;
Still be the cheerful homage paid,
With opening light and evening shade.

Here in thy house shall incense rise,
And circling Sabbaths bless our eyes,
Till to those lofty heights we soar,
Where days and years revolve no more.

     Philip DoddridgeWe are marching onward to the heav’nly land,
To meet each other in the morning;
We are pressing forward to the golden strand,
Where joy will crown us in the morning.

We are trav’ling onward from a world of care,
To meet each other in the morning;
Oh, the time is coming, we shall soon be there,
And joy will crown us in the morning.

We are trav’ling onward, and the way grows bright,
We’ll meet each other in the morning,
Where our friends are waiting at the gate of life,
And joy will crown us in the morning.

Where the hills are blooming on the other shore,
We’ll meet each other in the morning!
Where the heart’s deep longing will be felt no more,
And joy will crown us in the morning.

In the boundless rapture of a Savior’s love
We’ll meet each other in the morning;
Then we’ll sing his glory in the realms above,
And joy will crown us in the morning.

Chorus
In the morning, in the morning,
We will gather with the faithful in the morning;
Where the night of sorrow shall be rolled away,
And joy will crown us in the morning.

H. E. Blair