REJOICE by Floyd D. Raze

Pacific Press Publishing Company · OAKLAND, CALIFORNIA · Sep 13, 1899

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 25, No. 37.

REJOICE.

By Floyd D. Raze

I HEAR the bells on Sabbath morn Ring merrily from the town; And sweetly on the air is borne Glad voices up and down; The children sing, And robins sing, And the swallow gay is flying; The lark is making the fields to ring, And all the world seems crying, “Rejoice.”

Here mothers croon to little ones, And little ones, aglee, Laugh till their merry music runs In rippling harmony; Their cheeks are bright, Their eyes are bright, With every nod espying— Their little souls so pure and white— They too are gladly crying, “Rejoice.”

And here an old man, thin and gray, Sits musing in the shade; His toil has lasted many a day In harvest field and glade; His pulse is slow, His step is slow, But tho he's surely dying, His soul its journeying fain would go; He hears all nature crying, “Rejoice.”

Thanks be to Thee, Thou God of love, For this sweet day of rest, Thanks to the Christ in heaven above, In whom our souls are blessed. This day is Thine And we are Thine. Should any heart be sighing? May God forbid that ever mine Shall other be than crying, “Rejoice.”

FLOYD D. RAZE. Charlotte, Mich.