Poems (Edwards)/Sabbath Morning
SABBATH MORNING.
How proudly through yon azure field The bright sun threads his way,Dispensing o'er creation round The glittering beams of day!The silken flowers of every hueBend with the pearly drops of dew,That rest like diadems of light,On every bud and petal bright.
Far up, on yonder mountain top A misty shadow lies,Soft mingling with the spotless blue That tints the glowing skies;And yonder calm and quiet streamGlides, like the spirit of a dream,So lightly, that its muffled soundScarce wakes a whispering echo round.
Thro' the green boughs the spring birds glance, And warble forth their lays,Each sounding his divinest note To the Creator's praise;Till rock, and tree, and mountain high,Are vocal with their minstrelsy;Song answers song, till all aroundIs steeped in melody of sound.
How glorious is the Sabbath day, With all its sacred hours!There is a balm upon its breeze, A freshness in its flowers;A beauty in its quiet rest,That calms the tumult of the breast;A voice in every dale and hill,That bids the troubled soul be still.
Thrice welcome, day of holiness! Thrice welcome to this heart!Sweet emblem of eternal rest, To me, to all thou art; Come with thy deep and noiseless hush,And let our thoughts together rushFrom earth's dull vanities away,To God's eternal Sabbath day.