Lord of the Sabbath, hear us pray, In this Thy house, on this Thy day; And own, as grateful sacrifice, The songs which from Thy servants rise. Thine earthly Sabbaths, Lord, we love, But there's a nobler rest above; To that our lab'ring souls aspire, With ardent hope, and strong desire. No more fatigue, no more distress, Nor sin nor hell shall reach the place; No sighs shall mingle with the songs Which warble from immortal tongues. No rude alarms of raging foes; No cares to break the long repose; No midnight shade, no clouded sun; But sacred, high, eternal noon. 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. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE PICTURE (VENUS RECLINING) by EZRA POUND ADELAIDE CRAPSEY by CARL SANDBURG MY LAST DUCHESS; FERRRA by ROBERT BROWNING THE DESERTED HOUSE by MARY ELIZABETH COLERIDGE DOWN THE MISSISSIPPI: 5. THE STEVEDORES by JOHN GOULD FLETCHER CHRISTMAS IN INDIA by RUDYARD KIPLING |