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Wake, awake, no time for sleeping
Wake, awake, the time is near
Wake, awake to duty!
Wake from Thy sleep! How can the Master sleep
Wake from thy slumber, O soul: it is morning
Wake to gladness, sons of men!
"Watch with Me," the Master said
Watchers, let your lights be burning
Watchman, from the height beholding
Wave, wave your banners high
We bless Thee, Lord, that Thou hast spread
We have heard the wondrous story
We hear the promise Thou didst make
We need Thee still; O gracious Lord
We would not be by care opprest
Weak and worthless, worn and weary
Weary eyes the hills are scanning
Weary hearts that dwell in darkness!
Weary, laden with thy sin
Weary oft He toiled in weakness
Weary souls, all upward toiling
Weary, when the noon oppressed
Weep in the night, O mortals at the grave
What shall we bring to Thee?
What shall we give Thee now?
When backward on my path of life
When bright our path and joyous
When clouds like curtains drape the sky
When darkness falls, and night is here
When fails the light at sunset grey
When from the fateful field
When glory crowned the mountain top
When I dwell in light Divine
When I heard the Saviour calling
When in night of grief I mourn
When in the night our eyelids close
When lured by hope our spirits rise
When morning breaks, and glorious day
When passions surge within the soul
When, prompted by the will of God
When the Christ, His mission ended
When the clouds around my head
When the darkness veils the light
When the earth with beauty decked
When the joys of earth are blest
When the morn with golden ray
When the morning from the skies
When the vale of death I tread
When Thou shalt come, O Lord
When weary is our journey
Whence comes this glory, brighter far
Where gladness fills the heart
Where hands are weak, and hearts are faint
Where slaves to sin His love shall view
Where slumbering souls in bondage lie
Where sorrow dims the downcast eye
Where, unabashed, the power of sin
Wherefore from the grave triumphant
Wherefore on the Cross uplifted
Wheresoe'er the star led
While the sun his course fulfils
While we of every sin repent
Who can approach where such majesty bright
Who shall, nearest to the throne
Whose subjects are the souls of men
"Why with your ointments mix your tears?
Wilt Thou own the gift I bring?
Win me, O Lord, whose mercy came
Wisdom, Might, and Word Eternal
With beauty decked the morn ascends
With garments rent, and vile with sin
With Resurrection lays
With stones of polished beauty
With strength Thy Holy Church endue
Within the garden's sombre shade
Woeful the day when sin and death assailed
Woeful the threats that flash from Sinai's hill
Women bare the spices, sad
Women came at early gloom
Word of God! Thy crucifixion
Worthy of unending praises
Wounded was the Victor's brow
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