The Dawn of God’s Dear Sabbath

The dawn of God’s dear Sab­bath

Breaks o’er the earth again

As some sweet sum­mer morn­ing

After a night of pain;

It comes as cool­ing show­ers

To some ex­haust­ed land

As shade of clus­tered palm trees

’Mid wea­ry wastes of sand.

Lord

we would bring for of­fer­ing

Though marred with earth­ly soil

Our week of ear­nest la­bor

Of use­ful dai­ly toil;

Fair fruits of self de­ni­al

Of strong

deep love to Thee

Fostered by Thine own Spir­it

In our hu­mil­ity.

And

we would bring our bur­den

Of sin­ful thought and deed

In Thy pure pre­sence kneel­ing

From bond­age to be freed;

Our heart’s most bit­ter sor­row

For all Thy work un­done;

So many tal­ents wasted!

So few bright laur­els won!

And with that sor­row ming­ling

A stead­fast faith

and sure

And love so deep and fer­vent

That tries to make it pure;

In His dear pre­sence find­ing

The par­don that we need;

And then the peace so last­ing

Celestial peace in­deed!

So be it

Lord

for­ev­er;

O may we ev­er­more

In Je­sus’ holy pre­sence

His bless­èd name ad­ore

Upon His peace­ful Sab­bath

Within His tem­ple walls—

Type of the stain­less wor­ship

In Zi­on’s gold­en halls.