1 When the worn spirit wants repose,
And sighs for God to seek,
How sweet to hail the evening's close
That ends the weary week!
2 How sweet will be the early dawn
That opens on the sight,
When first the soul-reviving morn
Shall shed new rays or 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 When 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?
Text Information | |
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First Line: | When the worn spirit wants repose |
Meter: | C. M. |
Language: | English |
Publication Date: | 1867 |
Topic: | The Sabbath |
Notes: | Public Domain. |