SABBATH.
Remember the Sabbath day to keep it holy.—Exodus, xx. 8.
Thus saith the Lord, Keep ye judgment, and do justice: for my salvation is near to come, and my righteousness to be revealed.
Blessed is the man that doeth this, and the son of man that layeth hold on it: that keepeth the Sabbath from polluting it, and keepeth his hand from doing any evil.—Isaiah, lvi. 1, 2.
The Sabbath was made for man, and not man for the Sabbath.
Therefore the Son of man is Lord also of the Sabbath.—Mark, ii. 27, 28.
Great Lord of time! Great King of Heav’n,
Since weekly Thou renew’st my days,
To Thee shall daily thanks be giv’n,
And weekly sacrifice of praise.
This day the light, time’s eldest born,
Her glorious beams did first display,
And then the evening and the morn
Did first obtain the name of day.
Discretion grant me so to know
What Sabbath-rites Thou dost require,
And grace my duty so to do,
That I may keep Thy law entire.
George Wither.
Bright shadows of true rest! some shoots of bliss;
Heaven once a week;
The next world’s gladness pre-possessed in this.
Henry Vaughan.
How many blessed groups this hour are bending
Through England’s primrose meadow paths, their way
Towards spire and tower, ’midst shadowy elms descending,
Whence the sweet chimes proclaim the hallowed day.
The halls from old heroic ages grey,
Pour their fair children forth; and hamlets low,
With whose thick orchard blooms the soft winds play,
Send out their inmates in a happy flow,
Like a freed vernal stream. I may not tread
With them those pathways—to the feverish bed
Of sickness bound—yet oh my God! I bless
Thy mercy, that with Sabbath peace hath filled
My chastening heart, and all its throbbings stilled
To one deep calm of lowliest thankfulness.
Mrs. Hemans.
The cheerful Sabbath bells, wherever heard,
Strike pleasant on the sense, most like the voice
Of one who from the far off hills proclaims
Tidings of good to Zion.
Charles Lamb.
The Sabbath bell,
That over wood, and wild, and mountain-dell
Wanders so far, chasing all thoughts unholy
With sounds most musical, most melancholy.
Samuel Rogers.
Ah! why should a thought of a world that is flying,
Encumber the pleasure of seasons like these?
Or, why should the Sabbath be sullied with sighing,
While Faith the bright side of eternity sees!
Now let us repose from our care and our sorrow,
Let all that is anxious and sad pass away;
The rough cares of life lay aside till to-morrow,
But let us be tranquil and happy to-day.
Let us say to the world, should it tempt us to wander,
As Abraham said to his men on the plain,
There’s the mountain of prayer, I am going up yonder,
And tarry you here till I seek you again.
To-day on that mount we would seek for Thy blessing,
O Spirit of Holiness meet with us there!
Our hearts then will feel, Thine high influence possessing,
The sweetness of praise, and the favour of prayer.
James Edmeston.
’Tis past! no more the Summer blooms!
Ascending in the rear,
Behold, congenial Autumn comes,
The Sabbath of the year!
What time thy holy whispers breathe,
The pensive evening shade beneath,
And twilight consecrates the floods;
While nature strips her garment gay,
And wears the verdure of decay,
O, let me wander through the sounding woods!
Logan.
When through the peaceful parish swells
The music of the Sabbath bells,
Duly tread the sacred road
Which leads you to the house of God;
The blessing of the Lamb is there,
For “God is in the midst of her.”
Bishop Mant.
Whether men sow or reap the fields,
Her admonitions nature yields;
That not by bread alone we live,
Or what a hand of flesh can give;
That every day should leave some part
Free for a Sabbath of the heart;
So shall the seventh be truly blest,
From morn to eve with hallowed rest.
Wordsworth.
On the seventh day reposing, lo! the great Creator stood,
Saw the glorious work accomplished,—saw and felt that it was good;
Heaven, earth, man, and beast have being, day and night their courses run,—
First creation,—infant manhood,—earliest Sabbath,—it is done.
On the seventh day reposing, Jesus filled His sainted tomb,
From His spirit’s toil retreating, while He broke man’s fatal doom;
’Twas a new creation bursting, brighter than the primal one,—
’Tis fulfilment,—reconcilement; ’tis redemption,—it is done.
Da Costa.
The All-beneficent
Cares for man’s better nature, and has given
This Sabbath-rest to lead his thoughts to Heaven.
Myriads of thanks for this divinest gift,
For this perpetually recurring day—
Wherein both rich and poor—bond—free—can lift
Their hopes above this fading world, and pray.
E. J. Eames.
The solemn tolling of the Sabbath bell
Hath something in it holier than of earth;
And when loud anthems to Jehovah swell,
The spirit longeth for a heavenly birth;
And, catching impulse from the good man’s prayer,
The heart is softened to contrition there.
Isaac F. Shepard.
With silent awe I hail the sacred morn,
Which slowly wakes while all the fields are still;
A soothing calm on every breeze is borne,
A graver murmur gurgles from the rill,
An echo answers softer from the hill,
And softer sings the linnet from the thorn,
The skylark warbles in a tone less shrill:
Hail, light serene! Hail, sacred Sabbath morn!
The rooks float by in silent, airy drove;
The sun a placid yellow lustre shows;
The gales that lately sighed along the grove,
Have hushed their downy wings in dead repose;
The hovering rack of clouds forgets to move:
So smiled the day, when the first morn arose!
Dr. Leyden.
Yes! blessed Sabbath morn, thy light
Is affluent in pure delight
To those who love thy rest;
Beyond thy sun, a heavenly ray
Adds moral lustre to the day,
And shines into the breast.
J. K. Mitchell.
Too soon our earthly Sabbaths end!
Cares of a work-day will return,
And faint our hearts, and fitful, burn:
O, think, my soul, beyond compare,
Think what a Sabbath must be there;
Where all is holy bliss, that knows
Nor imperfection, nor a close.
Thomas Grinfield.
It is the Sabbath, O my soul
Own its divine and potent sway;
Let it each sinful thought control,
For thee, for that, was blest this day.
Anon.