Poems by the late John Bethune With a sketch of the author's life, by his brother |
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SABBATH EVENING SONG. |
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 | Poems by the late John Bethune |  |
SABBATH EVENING SONG.
'Tis Sabbath! over the sky,
All sounds of earth are still,
Save the wild-bee's hum, and the lapwing's cry,
And the little bird's song on the hill;
And the vapoury clouds hang motionless there,
As if they, too, had caught the spirit of prayer:
And all things full of the Deity shine—
Oh! who would not think upon things divine?
All sounds of earth are still,
Save the wild-bee's hum, and the lapwing's cry,
And the little bird's song on the hill;
And the vapoury clouds hang motionless there,
As if they, too, had caught the spirit of prayer:
And all things full of the Deity shine—
Oh! who would not think upon things divine?
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'Tis Sabbath! over the earth,
There is magic in the hour;
Psalms arise from every hearth,
And over each heart have power—
And the holy melody ascends
To a world where Sabbath never ends;
And angels will smile, as fresh garlands they twine
For those who are thinking of things divine.
There is magic in the hour;
Psalms arise from every hearth,
And over each heart have power—
And the holy melody ascends
To a world where Sabbath never ends;
And angels will smile, as fresh garlands they twine
For those who are thinking of things divine.
'Tis Sabbath! over the sea
The full orb'd moon walks bright,
Holding in chains of mystery
Its restless and angry might,
And writing in silvery words on the wave
The mercies of Him who is mighty to save,
And leading the sailor, with beam benign,
To look upward, and think upon things divine.
The full orb'd moon walks bright,
Holding in chains of mystery
Its restless and angry might,
And writing in silvery words on the wave
The mercies of Him who is mighty to save,
And leading the sailor, with beam benign,
To look upward, and think upon things divine.
'Tis Sabbath! and yet the heart
Is weak, and will wander astray,
Though the earth, and the sea, and the sky take a part
In calling our spirits to pray;
And the victim of grief still will think of his woes,
Forgetting the hand which can give him repose:
Yet, Lord, at thy smile we will cease to repine—
Illumine our souls by thy wisdom divine.
Is weak, and will wander astray,
Though the earth, and the sea, and the sky take a part
In calling our spirits to pray;
And the victim of grief still will think of his woes,
Forgetting the hand which can give him repose:
Yet, Lord, at thy smile we will cease to repine—
Illumine our souls by thy wisdom divine.
| Poems by the late John Bethune | |