ON THE SABBATH by Joseph Stennett

Seventh-day Adventist Publishing Association · Battle Creek, Mich. · Dec 14, 1876

ON THE SABBATH.

By Joseph Stennett

[This devout and beautiful hymn was written by the first Joseph Stennett, who died in 1713. He was all his life an observer of the Seventh Day Sabbath, for which day it was undoubtedly composed; and it was perhaps first used by his congregation, which then met at Pinner's Hall, Broad Street, London. Having been abridged and altered by various compilers, by whom it has been accommodated to the First Day, it is now brought to light, in its original shape, from the Author's Works (London, 1732, 8vo.) IV., 231—4—W. H. B., 1848.]

Another six-days work is done, Another Sabbath is begun: Return, my soul unto thy rest; Revere the day thy God has blest.

II.

But weep that thou hast done no more In this and many weeks before, For him whom thou art bound to praise On working and on resting days.

III.

If common actions ought to tend To praise him as their common end, How should his glory be design'd In every thing of sacred kind?

IV.

For servile work six days are given; For sacred use but one in seven: When, for my work God gives such time, Shall I begrudge a day to him?

Lord, one in seven's too much for me; And six too little seems for thee: My time, my all besides, is thine; Nothing, no not myself, is mine.

VI.

Nothing I properly could claim As truly mine, but sin and shame: This guilt thou hast removed; and given Thyself, thy Son, thy grace, thy heaven.

VII.

My soul with grateful ardor burns, My God, to make thee some returns: Well may I render thee thy own; Well mayst thou reap where thou hast sown.

VIII.

This grateful soul by thee redeem'd, This holy time by thee esteem'd, And what I am or have beside, What I can give or thou provide,—

IX.

I offer all, my God, to thee: If thou accept both mine and me, I'll praise thy grace, thy name adore, And wish, to offer, I had more.

Oh! that my thoughts and words may rise As incense to propitious skies; And fetch from heaven that sweet repose Which none but he that feels it knows.

XI.

This heavenly calm within my breast Is the dear pledge of glorious rest, Which for the church of God remains; The end of cares, the end of pains.

XII.

With joy God's wond'rous works I view, In various scenes, both old and new: With praise I think on mercies past; With hope of future pleasures taste.

XIII.

In holy duties thus the day, In holy pleasures melts away. How sweet a Sabbath thus to spend In hope of one that ne'er shall end!

XIV.

Till I am so divinely blest, I'll love this weekly day of rest; And still, when days of work begin, Remember there is no time for sin.

—Sabbath Memorial.