Father, In The Dark I Lay, Thirsting For The Light, Helpless, But For Hope Alway In Thy Father-Might. Out Of Darkness Came The Morn, Out Of Death Came Life, I, And Faith, And Hope, New-Born, Out Of Moaning Strife! So, One Morning Yet More Fair, I Shall, Joyous-Brave, Sudden Breathing Loftier Air, Triumph O'Er The Grave. Though This Feeble Body Lie Underneath The Ground, Wide Awake, Not Sleeping, I Shall In Him Be Found. But A Morn Yet Fairer Must Quell This Inner Gloom-- Resurrection From The Dust Of A Deeper Tomb! Father, Wake Thy Little Child; Give Me Bread And Wine Till My Spirit Undefiled Rise And Live In Thine.