AGAIN the Lord of life and light
Awakes the kindling ray,
Unseals the eyelids of the morn,
And pours increasing day.

2 Oh! what a night was that, which wrapt A guilty world in gloom!

Oh! what a sun which broke, this day,
Triumphant from the tomb!

3

The powers of darkness leagued in vain
To bind our Lord in death;

He shook their kingdom when He fell,
With His expiring breath.

4 And now His conquering chariot wheels Ascend the lofty skies;

While, broke beneath His powerful cross, Death's iron sceptre lies.

5 This day be grateful homage paid,
And loud hosannas sung;

Let gladness dwell in every heart,
And praise on every tongue.

6 Ten thousand differing lips shall join
To hail this welcome morn,
Which scatters blessings, from its wings,
On nations yet unborn.

Mrs. Anna Letitia Barbauld, 1772, a.

43 Spohr. L. M.

L. SPOHR.

bove;

3.

2 No more fatigue, no more distress,
Nor sin nor death shall reach the place;
No groans shall mingle with the songs
Which warble from immortal tongues.

3 No rude alarms of raging foes;
No cares to break the long repose;
No midnight shade, no clouded sun,
But sacred, high, eternal noon.

4 O long-expected day begin!
Dawn on this world of woe and sin;
Fain would we leave this weary road,
To sleep in death, and rest in God.

Philip Doddridge, 1737.

44

SWEET is the light of Sabbath-eve,

And soft the sunbeams lingering there: For these blest hours, the world I leave, Wafted on wings of faith and prayer.

2 The time-how lovely and how still;
Peace shines and smiles on all below,-
The plain, the stream, the wood, the hill,--
All fair with evening's setting glow.

3 Nor will our days of toil be long,
Our pilgrimage will soon be trod;
And we shall join the ceaseless song,-
The endless Sabbath of our God.
James Edmeston, 1820.

2 We thank Thee for its healing rest
To weary toil and care;

Its praise, within Thy temple blessed-
Its holy balm of prayer.

3 We thank Thee for its living bread,
That did our hunger stay;

The manna, by Thine angels shed,
Around our desert way.

4 Oh! grant, that, when this span of life, In evening shade, shall close,

And all its vanity and strife

Tend to their long repose,—

5 We, for the sake of Him, who died,
Our Advocate and Friend,
May share that Sabbath, at Thy side,
Which never more shall end.
Lydia H. Sigourney, 1850.

50

WHEN the worn spirit wants repose
And sighs her God to seek,
How sweet to hail the evening's close
That ends the weary week!

2 How welcome is the early dawn
That opens on the sight,
When first the soul-reviving morn
Sheds forth new rays of light!

3 Blest day! thine hours too soon will cease,
Yet, while they gently roll,
Breathe, heavenly Spirit, Source of peace,
A Sabbath o'er my soul.

4 Soon will my pilgrimage be done,
The world's long week be o'er,
That Sabbath dawn which needs no sun,
That day which fades no more.
James Edmeston, 1820.

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GOD of the sunlight hours! how sad
Would evening shadows be,
Or night, in deeper sable clad,-

If aught were dark to Thee!

2 How mournfully that golden gleam
Would touch the thoughtful heart,

If, with its soft, retiring beam,
We saw Thy love depart!

3 But, though the gathering gloom may hide Those gentle rays awhile,

Yet they, who in Thy house abide,
Shall ever share Thy smile.

4 Then let creation's volume close,
Though every page be bright;
On Thine, still open, we repose
With more intense delight.

Maria Grace Saffery, 1834, a

2 With Thee, when dawn comes in, And calls me back to care; Each day returning to begin

With Thee, my God! in prayer:

3 With Thee, amid the crowd

That throngs the busy mart,

To hear Thy voice, 'mid clamor loud, Speak softly to my heart:

4 With Thee, when day is done, And evening calms the mind; The setting, as the rising, sun With Thee my heart would find.

5 With Thee, in Thee by faith Abiding I would be;

By day, by night, in life, in death,

I would be still with Thee.

53

broad, I would be still with Thee:

a

HOLY, delightful day,

Day of divine delight!

We hailed thy gladsome morning ray;
We bless thine evening bright.

2 Dear Lord! the day was bright,
Because the day was Thine;
This full, this manifold delight,
Was it not all divine?