5 But I shall share a glorious part,
When grace hath well refined my heart,
And fresh supplies of joy are shed,
Like holy oil, to cheer my head.

6 Then shall I see, and hear, and know,
All I desired or wished below,
And every power find sweet employ
In that eternal world of joy.

541

C. M.

The Lord's Day. Ps. 118.

WATTS.

1 THIS is the day the Lord hath made;
He calls the hours his own;
Let heaven rejoice, let earth be glad,
And praise surround the throne.

2 To-day he rose and left the dead,
And Satan's empire fell;

To-day the saints his triumphs spread,
And all his wonders tell.

3 Hosanna to the anointed King,
To David's holy Son;

Help us, O Lord; descend and bring
Salvation from the throne.

4 Blest be the Lord, who comes to men
With messages of grace,

Who comes in God his Father's name,
To save our sinful race.

5 Hosanna in the highest strains

The church on earth can raise ;

The highest heavens, in which he reigns,
Shall give him nobler praise.

542

S. M.

WATTS.

The Lord's Day. Ps. 118.

1 SEE what a living Stone

The builders did refuse!

Yet God hath built his church thereon,
In spite of envious Jews.

2 The work, O Lord, is thine,
And wondrous in our eyes;
This day declares it all divine;
This day did Jesus rise.

3 This is the glorious day

That our Redeemer made;
Let us rejoice, and sing, and pray ;
Let all the church be glad.

4 Hosanna to the King

Of David's royal blood;

Bless him, ye saints; he comes to bring
Salvation from your God..

5 We bless thy holy word,

Which all this grace displays,
And offer on thy altar, Lord,
Our sacrifice of praise.

543

L. M.

DODDRIDGE.

The eternal Sabbath.

1 LORD of the Sabbath, hear our vows On this thy day, in this thy house; And own, as grateful sacrifice,

The songs which from the desert rise.

2 Thine earthly Sabbaths, Lord, we love;
But there's a nobler rest above;
To that our laboring souls aspire,
With ardent pangs of strong desire.
3 No more fatigue, no more distress,
Nor sin, nor hell, shall reach the place;
No groans to mingle with the songs
Which warble from immortal tongues;

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

5 O long-expected day, begin;

Dawn on these realms of woe and sin;
Fain would we leave this weary road,
And sleep in death, to rest with God.

544

L. M.

Lord's Day Morning.

MRS. STEELE.

1 GREAT God, this sacred day of thine Demands our souls' collected powers; May we employ in work divine

These solemn, these devoted hours! 2 Hence, ye vain cares and trifles, fly; Where God resides appear no more ; Omniscient God, thy piercing eye

Can every secret thought explore.

3 The word of life, dispensed to-day, Invites us to a heavenly feast;

May every ear the call obey!

Be every heart an humble guest!

4 Thy Spirit's powerful aid impart;
O, may thy word, with life divine,
Engage the ear, and warm the heart!
Then shall the day indeed be thine.

RIPPON'S COL.

545

H. M.

The Lord's Day Morning.

1 AWAKE, our drowsy souls;
Shake off each slothful band;
The wonders of this day
Our noblest songs demand:
Auspicious morn,
Thy blissful rays
Bright seraphs hail

In songs of praise.

2 At thy approaching dawn,
Reluctant death resigned
The glorious Prince of life,
In dark domains confined:
The angelic host
Around him bends,

And 'midst their shouts
The Lord ascends.

3 All hail, triumphant Lord;

Heaven with hosannas rings;
While earth, in humbler strains,
Thy praise responsive sings:
"Worthy art thou,

Who once wast slain,
Through endless years
To live and reign."

546

L. M.

Sabbath Hymn.

MRS. BARBAULD.

1 WHEN, as returns this solemn day,
Man comes to meet his Maker, God,
What rites, what honors shall he pay?
How spread his Sovereign's praise abroad?
2 From marble domes, and gilded spires,
Shall curling clouds of incense rise?
And gems, and gold, and garlands deck
The costly pomp of sacrifice?

3 Vain, sinful man! Creation's Lord.

Thy golden offerings well may spare; But give thy heart, and thou shalt find Here dwells a God who heareth prayer.

547

C. M.

Sabbath Hymn.

MRS. BARBAULD.

1 SLEEP, sleep to-day, tormenting cares,
Of earth and folly born;

Ye shall not dim the light that streams
From this celestial morn.

2 To-morrow will be time enough
To feel your harsh control;
Ye shall not violate, this day,
The Sabbath of the soul.

3 Sleep, sleep forever, guilty thoughts;
Let fires of vengeance die;

And, purged from sin, may I behold
A God of purity.