SAFELY through another week
God has brought us on our way;
Let us now a blessing seek,
On the approaching Sabbath day:
Day of all the week the best,
Emblem of eternal rest.
Mercies multiplied each hour,
Through the week our praise demand; Guarded by Almighty power,
Fed and guided by his hand :
Though ungrateful we have been,
Only made returns of sin.
While we pray for pardoning grace,
Through the dear Redeemer's name,
Show thy reconciled face,
Shine away our sin and shame:
From our worldly care set free,
May we rest this night with thee.
When the morn shall bid us rise,
May we feel thy presence near!
May thy glory meet our eyes
When we in thy house appear!
There afford us, Lord, a taste
Of our everlasting feast.
May thy gospel's joyful sound
Conquer sinners, comfort saints;
Make the fruits of grace abound,
Bring relief for all complaints:
Thus may all our Sabbaths prove,
Till we join the church above!
JOHANN PETER HEBEL, called the German Burns, was born May 11, 1760, and rose to be a prominent professor of theology. He wrote poems in the Black Forest dialect on rustic themes. He died at Schwetzingen, Sept. 22, 1826.
"WELL," Saturday to Sunday said,
"The people now have gone to bed;
All, after toiling through the week,
Right willingly their rest would seek;
Myself can hardly stand alone,
So very weary I have grown."
His speech was echoed by the bell,
As on his midnight couch he fell,
And Sunday now the watch must keep.
So, rising from his pleasant sleep,
He glides half dozing through the sky,
To tell the world that morn is nigh.
He rubs his eyes, and, none too late,
Knocks aloud at the sun's bright gate;
She slumbered in her silent hall,
Unprepared for his early call.
Sunday exclaims, "Thy hour is nigh!"
"Well, well," says she, "I'll come by and by."
Gently on tiptoe Sunday creeps;
Cheerfully from the stars he peeps;
Mortals are all asleep below,
None in the village hears him go;
E'en chanticleer keeps very still,
For Sunday whispered 't was his will.
Now the world is awake and bright,
After refreshing sleep all night;
The Sabbath morn in sunlight comes,
Smiling gladly on all our homes.