p. 741 | SABBATH EVE by William D. Wolff

Pacific Press Publishing Company · Oakland, California · Oct 2, 1893

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 19, No. 47.

SABBATH EVE.

By William D. Wolff

BY WILLIAM D. WOLFF.

THE light of Sabbath eventide grows dim As folded into sleep by gathering shades, While, from the altar of our hearts, a hymn Ascends to Thee, whose love our life pervades.

Sweet Sabbath day! thy hallowed moments come Like heaven’s balm upon the thirsty soul, And like fair angel hands to point us home, And lead our wandering steps unto the goal.

In every gift Thy kindly hand doth send, In constant word of cheer or loving deed, We see Thy goodness and Thy mercy bend, To crown our souls with blessings they so need.

Accept the service of this day, our King, The precious going forth, with tears, to sow; Our faith, oft clouded, still doth sweetly sing Of garnered sheaves that from the seed shall grow.

In early morn, as well at eventide, Our hands have not withheld the precious seed; And now, toil weary, we would rest beside The waters still where thou dost gently lead.

Kind Shepherd, draw our wayward hearts to thee, And let these holy Sabbaths ever prove— ‘Twixt earth’s brief day and heaven’s eternity— The stepping stones of thy unbounded love.

So shall these hallowed Sabbaths ever be A prelude to unending rest above, A herald of eternal rest in thee, A foretaste of our Father’s home of love.

—Lutheran Observer.