Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE SABBATH, by EDWARD GEORGE EARLE LYTTON BULWER-LYTTON



Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

Rhyming Dictionary Search
THE SABBATH, by             Poet's Biography
First Line: Fresh glides the brook and blows the gale
Last Line: And holds his feast for all!
Alternate Author Name(s): Bulwer, Edward; Lytton Of Knebworth, 1st Baron; Lytton, Edward George Earle Bulwer, Lord
Subject(s): Sabbath; Sunday


FRESH glides the brook and blows the gale,
Yet yonder halts the quiet mill;
The whirring wheel, the rushing sail,
How motionless and still!

Six days stern labour shuts the poor
From nature's careless banquet-hall;
The seventh an Angel opes the door,
And, smiling, welcomes all!

A Father's tender mercy gave
This holy respite to the breast,
To breathe the gale, to watch the wave,
And know -- the wheel may rest!

Six days of toil, poor child of Cain,
Thy strength thy master's slave must be;
The seventh, the limbs escape the chain --
A God hath made thee free!

The fields that yester-morning knew
Thy footsteps as their serf, survey;
On thee, as them, descends the dew,
The baptism of the day.

Fresh glides the brook and blows the gale,
But yonder halts the quiet mill;
The whirring wheel, the rushing sail,
How motionless and still!

So rest, -- O weary heart! -- but, lo,
The church-spire, glistening up to heaven,
To warn thee where thy thoughts should go
The day thy God hath given!

Lone through the landscape's solemn rest,
The spire its moral points on high.
O, Soul, at peace within the breast,
Rise, mingling with the sky!

They tell thee, in their dreaming school,
Of power from old dominion hurl'd,
When rich and poor, with juster rule,
Shall share the alter'd world.

Alas! since time itself began,
That fable hath but fool'd the hour,
Each age that ripens power in man,
But subjects man to power.

Yet every day in seven, at least,
One bright republic shall be known; --
Man's world awhile hath surely ceas'd,
When God proclaims his own!

Six days may rank divide the poor,
O Dives, from thy banquet hall --
The seventh the Father opes the door,
And holds his feast for all!





Other Poems of Interest...



Home: PoetryExplorer.net