The Lord’s Day

I

How welcome to the saints, when press’d
With six days’ noise and care and toil,
Is the returning day of rest,
Which hides them from the world awhile!

II

Now from the throng withdrawn away,
They seem to breathe a diff’rent air;
Composed and soften’d by the day,
All things another aspect wear.

III

How happy if their lot is cast
Where statedly the gospel sounds!
The word is honey to their taste,
Renews their strength, and heals their wounds!

IV

Though pinch’d with poverty at home,
With sharp afflictions daily fed,
It makes amends, if they can come
To God’s own house for heav’nly bread!

V

With joy they hasten to the place
Where they their Saviour oft have met;
And while they feast upon his grace,
Their burdens and their griefs forget.

VI

This favour’d lot, my friends, is ours;
May we the privilege improve,
And find these consecrated hours
Sweet earnest of the joys above.

VII

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.