'Behold, it is the Sabbath morn.'
And I arose, and I released
The casement, and the light increased
With freshness in the dawning east.
Like softened airs that blowing steal,
When meres begin to uncongeal,
The sweet church-bells began to peal.
On to God's house the people pressed,
Passing the place where each must rest,
Each entered like a welcome guest.