How sweet upon the morning air, the chime of Sabbath-bells,
As full and clear upon the ear the solemn music swells!
From many a church in sunny vale, and on the green hill side,
The jewels of New-England’s crown, her glory and her pride.
II.
The busy hum of busy men, this morn forgets to wake,
In quiet deep the hushed winds sleep, as fearful they shall break
The holy silence which o’erspreads all nature like a spell,
With which in music sweet accords the Sabbath-morning bell.