THE LORD'S DAY.
[MONTGOMERY.]
THIS is the day the Lord hath made,
Let young and old rejoice;
To Him be vows and homage paid,
Whose service is our choice.
This is the temple of the Lord;"
How dreadful is this place!
With meekness let us hear his word,
With reverence seek his face.
This is the homage He requires,-
The voice of praise and prayer,
The soul's affections, hopes, desires;
Ourselves and all we are.
While rich and poor for mercy call,—
Propitious from the skies,
The Lord, the Maker of them all,
Accepts the sacrifice.
Well pleased, through Jesus Christ the Son
From sin He grants release;
According to their faith 'tis done,
He bids them go in peace.
WELCOME, Sweet day of rest,
That saw the Lord arise;
Welcome to this reviving breast,
And these rejoicing eyes!
The King Himself comes near,
And feasts his saints to-day,
Here we may sit, and see Him here,
And love, and praise, and pray.
One day amidst the place,
Where my dear God hath been,
Is sweeter than ten thousand days
Of pleasurable sin.
My willing soul would stay
In such a frame as this,
And sit and sing herself away
To everlasting bliss.
LORD of the Sabbath! hear us pray,
In this thy house, on this thy day;
Accept as grateful sacrifice,
The songs which from thy temple rise.
Now met to pray, and bless thy name,
Whose mercies flow each day the same,
Whose kind compassions never cease;
We seek instruction, pardon, peace.
Thine earthly Sabbaths, Lord! we love;
But there's a nobler rest above:
O that we might that rest attain
From sin, from sorrow, and from pain!
In thy bless'd kingdom we shall be
From every mortal trouble free;
No sighs shall mingle with the songs
Resounding 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 this world of woe and sin:
Fain would we leave this weary road,
To sleep in death, and rest in God.
SWEET is the task, my God, my King,
To praise thy name, give thanks, and sing,
To show thy love by morning light,
And talk of all thy truth at night.
Sweet is the day of sacred rest,
No mortal cares shall seize my breast:
O may my heart in tune be found,
Like David's harp of solemn sound!
My heart shall triumph in my Lord,
And bless his works, and bless his word;
Thy works of grace, how bright they shine!
How deep thy counsels! how divine!
Fools never raise their thoughts so high;
Like brutes they live, like brutes they die;
Like grass they flourish, till thy breath
Blast them in everlasting death.
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.
Sin (my worst enemy before)
Shall vex my eyes and ears no more;
My inward foes shall all be slain,
Nor Satan break my peace again.
Then shall I see, and hear, and know
All I desired or wish'd below;
And every power find sweet employ
In that eternal world of joy.
THE SABBATH-IN THE GREAT CONGREGATION
LORD, how delightful 'tis to see,
A whole assembly worship Thee!
At once they sing, at once they pray;
They hear of heaven, and learn the way.
I have been there, and still would go:
"Tis like a little heaven below:
Not all that careless sinners say,
Shall tempt me to forget this day.
O write upon my memory, Lord,
The texts and doctrines of thy word!
That I may break thy laws no more,
But love Thee better than before.
With thoughts of Christ, and things divine,
Fill up
this foolish heart of mine;
That, finding pardon through his blood,
I may lie down, and wake with God.
THE SABBATH.-IN THE FAMILY.
Now may the Spirit's holy fire,
Descending from above,
His waiting family inspire,
With joy, and peace, and love!
Wake, heavenly wind, arise, and come,
Blow on the drooping field;
Our spices then shall breathe perfume,
And fragrant incense yield.
Touch with a living coal the lip,
That shall proclaim thy word;
And bid us all devoutly keep
Attention to the Lord.
THE SABBATH.-BEFORE SERMON.
O MAY the Power which melts the rock
Be felt by all assembled here!
Or else our service will but mock
That God whom we profess to fear.
How long hath He bestow'd his care
On this indulged, ungrateful land!
How oft, in times of danger near,
Preserved us by his sovereign hand!
Here peace and liberty have dwelt;
The glorious gospel brightly shone;
And oft our mightiest foes have felt
That God hath made our cause his own.
But ah! both heaven and earth have heard
Our vile requital of his love:
We, whom like children He has rear'd,
For all his care unthankful prove.
See! He uplifts his chastening rod;—
O! where are now the faithful few,
Who trembled for the ark of God,
And know what Israel ought to do?
Lord, hear thy people every where,
Who meet this day to weep and pray:
Our sinful land in mercy spare,
And let thy wrath be turn'd away.
THE SACRAMENT.
[CODDRIDGE.]
THE King of heaven is table spreads,
And dainties crown the board;
Not Paradise, with all its joys,
Could such delight afford.
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