SABBATH MORNING THOUGHTS.
'Tis Sabbath morn;
The busy hum is hushed, and labor's wheels
Have ceased to grate the ear; a calm pervades,
Which breathes its soothing influence to the soul,
To fit it for the duties of the day. Toil worn, perhaps, we laid us down to sleep,
But now the blessed day of rest has come,
And we rejoice to know that we may spend
Its consecrated hours in humble prayer,
In sweet communion, and in holy praise. Oh! what a sweet relief from anxious care,
The dawn of each returning Sabbath brings;
It comes to bid the weary soul arise,
And shaking off the dust of six days' toil
"Mount as on eagle's wings, renewed in strength,
By waiting on the Lord." May no vain thoughts
Disturb our peace this day; and when at eve
We linger still amid its holy scenes,
Regretting that so soon the morrow's light
Must call us to the cares of earth again;
May our hearts burn within us; may we feel
That we are yet a little further on—
A Sabbath nearer home. This precious day,
Which God in love to man hath sanctified,
Is the sure earnest of the rest above.
Oh! on that glorious resurrection morn,
When from the dust of death we shall arise,
May we be found clothed in a spotless robe,
The Saviour's righteousness; and with the blest
That heavenly Sabbath spend; no shade can come,
No night can veil its pure and ceaseless ray,
The Lord himself forever there doth reign,
Its glory and its light.—S. S. Times.