—
Gently the Sabbath breaks upon the hills,
As when the first blest Sabbath marked the course
Of time. The golden sunbeam sleeps upon
The woods. No cloud casts o’er the scene a shade.
The six days’ labor ended, man and beast
Enjoy the season of appointed rest.
The fields are lonely, and the drowsy dells
Scarce catch the whisper of the gentle air;
And now is heard, for over hill and dale,