1 How welcome to the saints when pressed
With six days' noise and care and toil,
Is the returning day of rest,
Which hides them from the world a while.
2 Now from the throng withdrawn away,
They seem to breathe a different air;
Composed and softened be the day,
All things another aspect wear.
3 How happy if their lot is cast,
Where the stately gospel sounds!
The world is honey to their taste,
Renews their strength, and heals their wounds!
4 Though pinched with poverty at home
With sharp afflictions daily fed;
It makes amends if they can come
To God's own house for heavenly bread:
5 With joy they hasten to the place,
Where they their Saviour oft had met;
And while they feast upon his grace,
Their burdens and their griefs forget.
6 This favored lot, my friends, is ours,
May we the privilege improve;
And find these consecrated hours,
Sweet earnests of the joy above!
7 We thank thee for thy day, O Lord,
Here we thy promised presence seek;
Open thine hand with blessings stored,
And give us manna for the week.
Hymns and Spiritual Songs for the use of Christians, 1803