The Day of Sacred Rest

Review and Herald Publishing Association · Takoma Park Station, Washington, D. C. · Mar 3, 1910

The Day of Sacred Rest

The first poem that appeared in the REVIEW—in number four of the first volume, January, 1851—shows that among those first Sabbath-keepers were fingers that could skilfully touch the harp of sacred song. From this poem, entitled “The Sabbath,” by H. N. Stevens, of Paris, Maine, we quote:—

“Thy holy sway Quells the wild tumult of the troubled soul, And softly whispers peace. The sorrowing heart Grows glad at thine approach, and spirits faint, Fanned by thy hallowed breath, revive and smile. From the rapt vision fades the world away, And saints, in union sweet, draw near to heaven. . . . . . . “Six days the Almighty labored with his word, But now his labors ceased, and heralded By the clear anthem of the ‘morning stars,’ Crowned with excessive glory, shone on high The first Sabbatic morn. To greet its dawn, All heaven joined in univocal song; Mellif’ous voices filled the balmy air, Accompanied by harps of sweetest note, Hymning the praises of creating love, And the bright glories of the day of rest. “Momentous day! its first observer He. The high and lofty One, whose fearful name Gleams as a signet on its holy brow. Alone ordained, and sanctified by him, And with his blessing blest forevermore.

“When from the sacred mount, Whose cloudy top and trembling base proclaimed The awful grandeur of its Guest sublime, In thunder tones went forth the ‘royal law,’ God’s will to man, made known in ten commands; On that dread morn, while to its center shook The steadfast earth, and Israel in dismay Turned from the fearful sight, nor could endure The voice of him that spake; the great decree Unchangeable was passed on all below. ‘Six days may work be done, but on the seventh, Which is the Sabbath of the Lord thy God, Thou and all thine shalt rest; for in six days The Lord made heaven and earth and all therein, And rested on the seventh, and hallowed it.’

“Based on this grand foundation, stands secure The Sabbath of the Lord. And who art thou, That rashly dream’st to pluck this fabric down; And on its ruins to erect thine own? Thy blest, thy sanctified! Shortsighted man! Canst thou command unnumbered worlds from naught? Or canst thou thunder with a voice like him? Then mayst thou think to change the law divine. Thy weakness know, and know that God is strong, And jealous of his glory; and who dares With impious hand to touch his high renown, Shall his displeasure prove, and taste his ire. “Blest all-immortal day! Ah, it shall stand; Unmoved amid the strife of mortal tongues, And while eternity his mighty years Shall roll unnumbered o’er the earth made new, Effulgent shine in glory’s noontide ray, By nations who are saved, observed for aye.”