Sing on, ye chorus of the morn,
                                        
                                        Lift high the glad refrain,
                                        
                                        Till o’er the distant isles is borne
                                        
                                        The sweet triumphant strain;
                                        
                                        Till every race, with ransomed powers,
                                        
                                        In loving loyalty
                                        
                                        Shall sing, “One Master, Christ, is ours,
                                        
                                        And brethren all are we.”