And who would sigh for its return?
We are but pilgrims, born to mourn;
And moments, as they onward flow,
Cut short the thread of human wo,
And bring us nearer to the scenes
Where sorrow ends, and heav'n begins.
SWEET is the last, the parting ray,
That ushers placid ev'ning in ;
When, with the still, expiring day,
The Sabbath's peaceful hours begin :
How grateful to the anxious breast,
The sacred hours of holy rest!
Hush'd is the tumult of the day,
And worldly cares and business cease;
While soft the vesper breezes play,
To hymn the glad return of peace:
Delightful season! kindly given
To turn the wand'ring thoughts to Heav'n.
Oft as this peaceful hour shall come,
Lord, raise my thoughts from earthly things,
And bear them to my heav'nly home,
On faith and hope's celestial wings,
Till the last gleam of life decay
In one eternal SABBATH-DAY!
ANOTHER Week has pass'd away,
With goodness and with mercy crown'd;
Kindness has mark'd each various day--
I still am with the living found.
How many thousands of my race,
Have sunk into an awful grave!
Whilst I behold thy richest grace,
And joyful feel thy power to save.
Not more than others can I claim ;
Yet thou hast made my cup run o'er ;
Oh! may I at thy glory aim,
And own thy goodness more and more.
And then, with each revolving week,
I shall the glorious prize pursue;
And gain at length the heaven I seek,
And there my grateful theme renew.
J. W. GREEN.
SAFELY through another week,
God has brought us on our way;
Let us now a blessing seek
On th' approaching Sabbath-day:
Day of all the week the best,
Emblem of eternal rest.
Mercies, multiplied each hour
Through the week, our praise demand; Guarded by Almighty pow'r,
Fed and guided by his hand:
Though ungrateful we have been,-
Only made returns of sin.
While we pray for pard'ning grace,
Through the dear Redeemer's name,
Shew thy reconciled face,
Shine away our sin and shame :
From our worldly care set free,
May we rest this night with thee:
When the morn shall bid us rise,
May we feel thy presence near !
May thy glory meet our eyes
When we in thy house appear!
There afford us, Lord, a taste
Of our everlasting feast.
May the Gospel's joyful sound
Conquer sinners, comfort saints,
Make the fruits of grace abound,
Bring relief for all complaints:
Such may all our Sabbaths prove,
Till we join the church above!
OH! in an hour so still as this,
From care, and toil, and tumult stealing,
I'll consecrate my time to bliss-
To sweet devotion's holy feeling:
And rise to thee-to thee, whose hand
Unroll'd the golden mass of heaven;
Mantled with beauty all the land;
Gave light to morn, and shade to even.
BOWRING.
WITH silent awe I hail the sacred morn,
That slowly wakes while all the fields are still;
A soothing calm on every breeze is borne,
A graver murmur gurgles from the rill,
And echo answers softer from the hill,
And softer sings the Linnet from the thorn,
The Sky-lark warbles in a tone less shrill:
Hail, light serene! hail, sacred Sabbath-morn!
The Rooks float silently, in airy drove ;
The Sun a placid yellow lustre throws;
The Gales, that lately sighed along the grove,
Have hushed their downy wings in dread repose;
The hovering rack of clouds forgets to move
So smil'd the day, when the first morn arose !
LEYDEN.
HAIL! sacred day of holy thought,
Sweet Sabbath of serene repose;
Be earth's low pleasures all forgot
In joys the worldling never knows.
The peaceful strains that fill the grove,
Now, with increasing sweetness flow,
In notes of harmony and love,
Like Paradise renew'd below,
And now more pure the dew-drop seems,
And lovelier is the flowret's bloom,
And brighter are the morning's beams,
And richer is its sweet perfume.
Fair emblem of eternal rest!
Where nothing earthly shall control,
Nor sin, nor grief, nor care molest,
Or cloud that Sabbath of the soul.
There was a Sabbath once, below,
Brighter than Fancy's loveliest dream;
Free from the canker-worm of wo;
Unsullied as the solar beam.
And such a Sabbath, bright and pure,
In all its beauty shall return,-
In all its glory to endure ;
Who would not greet that Sabbath morn!
AH! why should the thought of a world that is dying,
Encumber the pleasure of seasons like these?
Or, why should the Sabbath be sullied with sighing,
While faith the bright things of eternity sees?
Now let us repose from our care and our sorrow,
Let all that is anxious and sad pass away;
The rough cares of life lay aside till to-morrow,
And let us be tranquil and happy to day.
Let us say to the world, should it tempt us to wander,
As Abraham said to his men on the plain-
There's the mountain of prayer, I am going up
yonder,
And tarry you here, till I seek you again.
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