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Sabbath Evening.

WELCOME the hour of sweet repose,
The evening of the Sabbath-day!
In peace my wearied eyes shall close
When I have tuned my vesper lay
In humble gratitude to Him

Who waked the morning's earliest beam.

In such an hour as this, how sweet,
In the calm solitude of even,

To hold with Heaven communion meet,
Meet for a spirit bound to heaven;
And, in this wilderness beneath,
Pure zephyrs from above to breathe!

It may be that the Eternal Mind

Bends sometimes from his throne of bliss;
Where should we then his presence find,
But in an hour so blest as this-

An hour of calm tranquillity,
Silent, as if to welcome thee?

Yes! if the Great Invisible,
Descending from his seat divine,
May deign upon this earth to dwell-
Where shall he find a welcoming shrine,
But in the breast of man, who bears
His image, and his Spirit shares ?

Now let the solemn thought pervade
My soul, and let my heart prepare
A throne:-Come, veil'd in awful shade,
Spirit of God! that I may dare

Hail thee-nor, like thy prophet, be
Blinded by thy bright majesty.

Then turn my wand'ring thoughts within,
To hold communion, Lord! with thee;
And, purified from taint of sin
And earth's pollutions, let me see
Thine image,-for a moment prove,
If not thy majesty, thy love-

That love which over all is shed-
Shed on the worthless as the just;
Lighting the stars above our head,
And waking beauty out of dust;
And rolling in its glorious way
Beyond the farthest comet's ray.

To Him alike the living stream
And the dull regions of the grave:
All watch'd, protected all, by Him,
Whose eye can see, whose arm can save,
In the cold midnight's dangerous gloom,
Or the dark prison of the tomb.

Thither we hasten-as the sand
Drops in the hour-glass, never still,
So, gather'd in by Death's rude hand,
The storehouse of the grave we fill;
And sleep in peace, as safely kept
As when on earth we smiled or wept.

What is our duty here?-To tend
From good to better-thence to best:
Grateful to drink life's cup,-then bend,
Unmurmuring, to our bed of rest;
To pluck the flowers that round us blow,
Scattering their fragrance as we go.

And so to live, that when the sun
Of our existence sinks in night,
Memorials sweet of mercies done
May 'shrine our name in Memory's light;
And the blest seeds we scatter'd, bloom
A hundred fold in days to come.

BOWRING.

THIS time, how lovely and how still!
Peace shines and smiles on all below:
The plain, the stream, the wood, the hill,
All fair with evening's setting glow!

Season of rest! the tranquil soul

Feels thy sweet calm, and melts in love:
And while these sacred moments roll,
Faith sees a smiling heav'n above.

EDMESTON.

Is there a time when moments flow
More peacefully than all beside?
It is, of all the times below,
A Sabbath eve in summer's tide.

Oh! then the setting sun smiles fair
And all below and all above,

The diff'rent forms of nature, wear
One universal garb of love.

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And then the peace that Jesus beams,
The life of grace, the death of sin,

With nature's placid woods and streams,
Is peace without, and peace within.

Delightful scene! a world at rest,
A God all love, no grief, no fear,
A heav'nly hope, a peaceful breast,
A smile unsullied by a tear!

If heav'n be ever felt below,
A scene so heav'nly, sure, as this,
May cause a heart on earth to know
Some foretaste of celestial bliss.

Delightful hour! how soon will night
Spread her dark mantle o'er thy reign!
And soon the morn's returning light
Will call us to the world again!

Yet will there dawn, at last, a day;
A sun, that never sets, shall rise;
Night will not veil his glorious ray :-
The heav'nly Sabbath never dies.

EDMESTON.

MILLIONS within thy courts have met,
Millions this day before thee bow'd ;
Their faces Zion-ward were set,

Vows with their lips to thee they vow'd :

But thou, soul-searching God! hast known
The hearts of all that bent the knee,
And hast accepted those alone,

In spirit and truth that worshipp'd thee.

People of many a tribe and tongue,
Men of strange colours, climates, lands,
Have heard thy truth, thy glory sung,
And offer'd pray'r, with holy hands.

Still, as the light of morning broke
O'er island, continent, and deep,
Thy far-spread family awoke,
Sabbath all round the world to keep.

From east to west, the sun survey'd,
From north to south, adoring throngs:
And still where evening stretch'd her shade,
The stars came forth to hear their songs.

Harmonious as the winds and seas,
In halcyon-hours, when storms are flown,
Rose on earth's Babel-languages,
In pure accordance, to thy throne.

Not angel-trumpets sound more clear;
Not elders' harps, nor seraph's lays,
Yield music sweeter to thine ear

Than humble pray'r and thankful praise.

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